Unpleasant Discoveries
by seejanewrite88
Summary: Sequel to “Learning to Love” and “Confusion.” While Suze is visiting with Jesse, her mom finds something Suze didn't want her to find. What will they do when both their parents don't want them to be together? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot. The recognizable characters belong to Meg Cabot.**

**Rating: M**

**Summary: Sequel to "Learning to Love" and "Confusion." While Suze is visiting with Jesse, her mom makes an unpleasant discovery. What will she do when she's forbidden to see Jesse anymore? And how will she deal with her mom learning everything about her past that she's been hiding?**

I couldn't wait. I couldn't sleep. I was too excited.

In less than twelve hours, I'd be seeing Jesse for the first time in two months.

After he left for college, he came down just about every weekend to visit me. I guess his aunt and uncle were even cooler than I thought, because they always managed to be out of the house, even at night. When I was over, they often didn't get home until two or three in the morning, giving Jesse and me ample time to, er, enjoy each other's company. But early every Monday morning, he'd leave to go back up to college, back to his parents' house. And I'd have to wait until Saturday to see him again.

In the beginning of October, though, he moved out of his parents' house. As he explained it to them, he hated keeping his family up with his typing and moving around at 3 in the morning, and coming in late and waking his sisters up. He didn't want to bother them anymore, and would just visit with them during the day.

But, he told me, he was actually more sick of not having the freedom that many of his friends at college had, in not having a curfew or parents who needed to know when he was going to be home, and, while he loved them, he was getting really, really annoyed how his mother would try to shove her nose into his schoolwork, and nagged him incessantly.

So, he got an apartment on campus, with another student. Mark was a junior, but he needed to split the rent with someone. And along came Jesse. Jesse was the only freshman in the building, but whatever. It was closer to his classes, and he had more opportunities to be with his friends without his mother or father hanging over his shoulder.

And, well, to be with me.

Because, well, actually, I think I forgot to mention to my mom, when he invited me up for the long Thanksgiving weekend, that Jesse wasn't living with his parents anymore.

Silly me.

So, in less than a day, I'll be with Jesse for a long weekend. You can't blame me for being excited--not just because I got to spend 4 days with him (again, unsupervised). But he'd gotten so busy over the past few months, with moving, then schoolwork, that he hadn't been able to come down to visit since the end of September.

And I missed him, desperately.

So I lay there, too excited to sleep. I felt like a little kid on Christmas Eve. But instead of counting sheep, like normal people, I started counting all the things I had planned to do with Jesse this weekend.

Actually, not many involved leaving his apartment.

Eventually, though, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, at 11:30, I was already packed and ready for Jesse to come and pick me up. It was Wednesday, and I had until Sunday with him. I was still shivering with anticipation. I think my mom thinks I've gone crazy, how excited I was.

What she _doesn't_ know, though, is that I am a 17 (almost 18) year old teenage girl, who hasn't had sex with, let alone SEEN, her incredibly hot and loving boyfriend in more than two months.

So, as soon as I saw Jesse's car coming up the hill, I gave my mom a quick hug, shouted a goodbye to my step-family, grabbed my bag, and hurried outside. My mom just rolled her eyes, and called, "Have a good time! Call me when you get there!"

Jesse was shutting his car door when I launched myself at him, hugging him tightly and kissing him hard.

He kissed back, for a moment, but then pulled away, muttering, "Your mom is still at the door, watching." Oops. I turned our kiss into a friendly hug, for my mother's sake.

Jesse waved to her, and she came out, a bit wary after my little presentation just then. They exchanged best wishes for the holidays, and Jesse promised to take good care of me and to make sure I called and checked in.

Suddenly, I remembered something. "Mom, can you refill my prescription?" I asked her. I get migraines sometimes—really bad ones. So my doctor gave me a prescription for some migraine medicine that was more powerful than the over-the-counter stuff. My bottle was almost empty.

I said goodbye again, as did Jesse, and we both climbed into the car. He squeezed my hand before putting the car into reverse and pulling out of the driveway, giving me chills.

"I missed you," he said, stealing a glance at me.

"I missed you, too," I said. Suddenly, I remembered Mark. His roommate. "Will I meet Mark?" I asked carefully. I didn't want to sound _too_ overeager about sleeping with Jesse again. He looked at me quickly with a half smile on his face. I don't think my round-about question worked.

"He's leaving this afternoon. You might catch him before he leaves. He's going to his sister's house in San Francisco." I nodded, pleased.

How much would it suck if we were stuck with another guy living in the same small living quarters?

As he drove, I admired him. He didn't look a whole lot different, but his hair was a bit longer than it was the last I'd seen him, and with length comes a bit untidiness. But even if it was messy, his hair was still incredibly sexy.

Suddenly, I couldn't contain my need for him. We were on a relatively deserted back roadway, the only car on the road. "Pull over," I asked. He did, with a concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he put the car in park. "Do you feel sick? Do you need some air?" I shook my head, turned off the car, and undid my seatbelt. "_Querida_?" he asked, confused.

I reached between his legs. Not for what most of you think, but for the lever that pulled his seat back. However, he got a bit anxious (in a good way) when he felt my hand on his inner leg... inner calf, but whatever.

"Susannah, what are you doing?" He asked, as I pushed his seat away from the wheel and reclined it, and reaching next to his hip to undo his seatbelt, which snapped back quickly.

"I haven't given you a proper hello," I whispered as I crawled onto his lab. As I straddled his waist, I felt very glad that this was a deserted road. And that the seat slid back pretty far--a steering wheel in the back would totally have ruined the mood.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him thoroughly. His hands went to my hips, holding them firmly against him, as he kissed me back, just as deeply.

"I missed you so much," he breathed into my ear, and started kissing the crook between my jaw and my neck. "Being…with you…is so…so much better… than just talking."

A few moments later, I trailed my hands from his neck, down the front of his shirt. They had gotten _quite_ low, when Jesse's hands moved from under my shirt, and grabbed mine.

"Susannah," he said, in a half groan, "We need to stop. Or I won't be able to drive, and we'll be stuck on this road all day."

I gave him one last kiss, before getting back into the passenger's seat. For a few moments, he didn't move, just remained reclined, with his eyes closed and panting. He was obviously trying to calm himself down so he'd be able to drive. Well, we had been kissing quite a bit.

He did manage to get a hold of himself after a few minutes, and he put his seat back in driving position, turned the car back on, and pulled it back into the road.

After a comfortable silence for several miles, Jesse spoke up. "My mother is expecting us at about 11:30 tomorrow. She can't wait to meet you." He gave me a smile.

"Wants to make sure I'm good enough for her baby?" I asked, jokingly. He grinned.

"Susannah, you are _too_ good for me," he said back. Risking distracting him again, I leaned over and kissed him—only on the cheek, though.

"It _is_ about time I met your family, though," I mused, more seriously. "We've been going out for more than a year."

"She's been dying to meet you ever since I first met you, and came home that weekend and couldn't talk about anything except you," he said I grinned, pleased.

Soon, we were driving along the streets of the large town Jesse's college was in—his parents lived in the neighboring town, he said, only about 10 minutes away. He parked his car in what appeared to be a university parking garage. Ever the gentlemen, he took my bag from the trunk and carried it for me. I put my corduroy blazer back on, and walked with Jesse down the block, holding his free hand loosely.

There were far more teens and young adults in the area than adults; a few waved at Jesse and greeted him. We were stopped by one guy, a friend of Jesse's, who needed some quick information about a homework assignment over the long weekend. I tuned out—a science person, I am not—and instead looked around. There were a lot of trees, though all bare. I imagined the campus must have been really pretty during the spring, summer and fall—I guess I just caught it's ugly side on this trip.

"And you're Susannah, right?" Suddenly, I brought my attention back to Jesse and his friend. I smiled politely.

"Call me Suze," I said. "No one gets away with calling me Susannah except Jesse." And, well, my priest-friend, but I figured it would be best to leave that out of the initial conversation with someone. Not many 17 year old girls have friends who have been ordained.

He laughed, and shook my hand casually. "Tom. Nice to finally meet you. We've all been wondering if this 'Susannah' girl actually existed." I grinned, and he turned his attention back to Jesse. "I'll let you go show her around. Happy Thanksgiving," he said, and walked away with a wave.

"He's my lab partner in biology this semester," Jesse explained, as he led me to an apartment building. It was modestly kept and respectable looking, with about 10 floors or so. We got into an elevator, and he pushed the 6.

"You're not going to be stuck doing homework, are you?" I asked, leaning against him and consequently pushing him against the wall of the elevator. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I did everything last night." He leaned in, and kissed me softly. "I wanted this weekend to be about _us_…" Ah, so he _did_ have some of the same plans that I did. Excellent.

We were still kissing when the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. "Here we are," Jesse said, after I pulled away. He picked my bag back up from where he had sat it down, and led me to a door with 6D on it. He pulled out his keys from his pocket, and opened the door.

The apartment was small, but comfortable. There was a small kitchen attached to the living room, which also acted as dining room, office, and gym, if the table, desk, and set of weights had anything to say. The apartment was pretty clean for guys, with no real visible dust or dirt. A few messy stacks of newspapers and magazines, and the desk was a jumble of papers and books, but whatever. You take the bad with the good. There were two doors off of the living room. One was the bathroom—also clean. Good. I opened the other one, and peered in.

"Ah… so _here_ is the bedroom," I said. There were two dressers, a tiny closet, and one bed. I looked at Jesse, questioningly. I mean, he and Mark weren't _sharing_, were they?

"I won the coin toss. I have the bed," he said, explaining their living situation. "He's been sleeping on the couch. It pulls out into a pretty comfortable bed." I nodded. "He keeps his clothes and belongings in his dresser in the bedroom, though, just to try to keep the living room to turning into a bedroom completely."

He went into the kitchen area, and I followed. "Would you like something to drink?" he called, opening the fridge. "A coke? Some water?" He shut the fridge, and was obviously very startled when I was right behind him.

"Susannah, there you are. DO you want something to—" he started, but stopped when I pushed him against the fridge, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a deep, sensual kiss. His arms encircled me, and he kissed back, pulling me against him so we were touching, from head to toe.

"Geez, de Silva, you've been here for ten minutes, tops, and you two are already going at it?" I broke away, panting, to see a guy, looking at us with an amused expression on his face.

"Susannah," Jesse panted, trying to regain his composure, "This is Mark, my room mate."

"Nice to meet you," he said. "I was just out packing up my car."

"Jesse said you were going to your sister's?" I said, breathing a bit heavily.

"Yea, I'll be heading out in a few minutes." He smirked, and added knowingly, "Don't worry, I'll be out of your way soon enough. I was just going to grab a sandwich first. Unfortunately, you two were in the way of the fridge." This guy seemed to be obsessed with pointing out that Jesse and I were making out.

Get over it, man. I haven't seen him in two months. Who _wouldn't_ want to make out with him?

"Right, lunch," Jesse said, a bit embarrassed. "Susannah, are you hungry?"

"A bit." I sat down at the small table that separated the kitchen from the living room. Jesse opened the fridge, looking for something to eat. "What do you have?"

They had a few Kaiser rolls and some cold cuts, so Jesse made me a turkey and white American sandwich, while he had roast beef and Mark put just about everything in the fridge in his sandwich.

Then, finally, Mark left, telling us to "have fun" with a chuckle. We did, for a while, making out on the couch. Just kissing, and getting back in tune with each other. It was really nice.

Eventually, though, after we were just lying there for a while, holding each other, I asked him to show me around the campus a bit. You know, get a feel for the surroundings, where Jesse spends his time.

So, for the next few hours, Jesse showed me around. He introduced me to some people, showed me where he had classes, took me in the library, and then we just walked around a nearby park, with our arms around each other's waists and my head resting on his shoulder. It was perfection.

After our walk, Jesse took me to a casual restaurant for an early dinner, where we talked and caught up with everything, and I told him how everyone back in Carmel was doing. Then, we went to a movie, one of those movies that is hardly advertised and no one knows about it until it's nominated for the Best Picture Oscar.

Afterward, we just walked back to his apartment, talking about the movie, hand in hand. It was after ten, which actually wasn't all that late, but I got my bag and went into the bathroom to get into my pajamas.

Jesse was checking some mail on the counter when I came out, wearing only short, tight silk pajama shorts and a matching camisole.

What? You actually expected me to wear an extra-large t-shirt and oversized gym shorts to bed? When I'm with _Jesse_?

Besides, I wasn't planning to keep them on all that long.

When Jesse heard the door open, he turned. When he saw me, he swallowed, and looked me over. But then he gave me a half smile, and came over to me. "Those pajamas don't look appropriate for November, Susannah… you might get cold," he teased.

"Well, then," I said smoothly, "I'd better warm up." I raised my eyebrows at him. "Care to help me?" I wrapped my arms around his neck loosely. He leaned down and kissed me, softly at first then with increasing pressure and zeal.

We stumbled backward into the bedroom, and he fell to the bed, pulling me down with him. We kissed breathlessly, and his hands quickly gripped the hem of my cami, and started pulling up.

I guess he was as excited about being with me as I was to be with him. In fact, I could literally _feel_ his excitement.

"Oh, _Querida_, I love you," Jesse panted heavily in my ear, as he bit it gently then worked his way down my neck, and onto my chest.

Oh… this was nice. His tongue and lips were doing amazing things, as I delved my fingers into his hair and moaned.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled between kisses. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he was talking to me or my breasts, but all thoughts left me when his one hand found its way between my legs and under my shorts.

"Oh my God," I groaned, sort of loudly, to my embarrassment. After a few moments, he must have gotten tired of working around the bottoms, because he pulled them off, too.

"I've missed you so much," Jesse said, his voice husky and hoarse. He was only wearing pajama pants, whose hem I hooked my fingers around and pulled off. We were finally both naked.

He was about to, well, you know, when I decided to mix things up. I rolled him over onto his back, and straddled his waist. He groaned and looked up at me, his face screwed up a bit… even more so when my fingers went to him, as I tried to give him the same pleasure he gave me.

Eventually, though, he grabbed my hands and flipped me over so I was back underneath him. His face was close to mine, and his eyes full of love. I kissed him again, and I felt a familiar and wonderful sensation in the lower part of my body that I hadn't felt in, well…

About two months.

Our breathing was quick and heavy, and intermixed with mind-blowing kisses as Jesse pushed me, getting faster and faster. The intense, incredible feeling in me grew and grew, until it exploded. I felt a heavy weight on me, as Jesse collapsed when he met his climax.

After a few moments rest, in efforts to make up for lost time, we did it again… and again...

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Okay, so not super interesting this chapter… but I promise it will get better. Just, please, review.


	2. Chapter 2

I actually had to cut this chapter short a bit, because I'm leaving for vacation in 13 hours. I won't be able to update until Wednesday, but I'll do my best to write the next chapter between now and then. Now, enjoy.

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I woke up to the sound of coffee percolating in the kitchen. Half unsure of where I was, I pushed the blanket I was under off my head, before realizing I was completely naked.

Oh yea. Now I know where I am.

I couldn't find my pajamas from where Jesse threw them last night, so I wrapped a blanket around me. However, I spotted a robe hanging from the hook in the closet, and, hoping it was Jesse's and not Mark's, slipped it on before leaving the bedroom.

Jesse was in the small kitchen, leaning against the counter while reading a copy of a newspaper. _The New York Times_, I noted. He heard me come in, and looked up with a smile.

"Good morning, _Querida_," he said, and kissed me gently. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too. How long have you been up?" I asked sleepily. Well, we were up pretty late last night… He chuckled when I yawned.

"About twenty minutes. I thought I'd let you sleep a bit more." I grabbed a bagel, knife, and cream cheese from the counter, and sat down at the table. After smearing the bagel with the stuff, I took a bite. Jesse sat down next to me, giving me a mug of Earl Grey, while he took a sip of his coffee. I tentatively took a small swallow, and realized he had made it just the way I like it.

"Thanks," I said warmly, and he kissed my cheek.

"We need to be leaving in about an hour, okay?" he said. "You finish breakfast, I'm going to get a shower." He finished his coffee in one swallow, and squeezed my shoulder gently as he walked towards the bathroom.

After I finished my bagel and tea, I skimmed the headlines of the paper—just political stuff that mostly went over my head—and then went back into the bedroom, looking around a bit more.

There were two dressers against one wall. One was being used as a bookshelf, with a row of books against the back and a few more in a pile. There was also a picture of Jesse and me, which I recognized as one the Cee Cee took, at a little good-bye party at the beach for Jesse in August.

The other just had a plethora of different things—loose change, a pair of sunglasses, a few crumpled receipts, a comb, a bottle of aspirin, and text book and notebook. There was also a small picture of a girl. She was pretty, with dark tanned skin and sun highlighted brown hair.

I heard the water shut off, and a moment later the door opened, and Jesse appeared, with only a towel around his waist. Even though I had seen more of him than he was showing right now, I still felt the urge to admire his (dripping wet) perfection.

He noticed this and smirked at me. "The shower's all yours," he said. He came closer, and noticed where I was looking. "That's Jenna. Mark's girlfriend."

"She looks nice," I said. Jesse smiled.

"I think you two would get along." After a moment's pause, I grabbed my bag and made my way into the bathroom.

After washing my hair and my body and shaving my legs, I wrapped myself in a towel and wiped away the steam from the mirror, and began my morning routine.

After blow-drying my hair, moisturizing, and doing my makeup, I poured some water from the sink into a small paper cup that was on the counter, and I took my pill. More than a year ago, when I had decided to sleep with Paul (oh, what a mistake. But whatever. That's in the past), I started taking the pill. I won't get pregnant, and I know Jesse doesn't have any STIs, so we're all good to have sex whenever we want. Of course, my mom doesn't know. Getting the prescription involved a stealth trip to the Planned Parenthood in a nearby town (thanks to Cee Cee for driving). After I put the nearly empty package away, I made a mental note that I needed to get by the drug store to pick the refill that I dropped off a few days before I left.

After that was taken care of, I pulled on a black A-line skirt, a dark red ¾ sleeve button-down, and matching pointy-toed pumps I got for ½ off from Manolo Blahnik.

When I came out of the bathroom, it was just about time to go. Jesse was on the couch, reading something. "Do I look okay?" I asked. I was a bit nervous about meeting Mrs. De Silva. I wanted her to like me.

"You look beautiful, Susannah." I smiled graciously. "Are you ready to go? They're expecting us to be there in about ten minutes." I was about to say yes, but then I remembered I forgot to put my earrings in and put my necklace on and all that.

"Yea, just let me grab my earrings… I'll put them on in the car." I hurried back to my bag, and grabbed the necklace I had brought (silver chain with a ruby-esque stone) and the earrings (silver studs with the same stone), and slipped them into my purse.

Once in the car, it took me half the trip to get the necklace on. It had one of those tiny clasps that were next to impossible to get on. Plus, I was getting more nervous about meeting Jesse's family. He sensed these worries, and said, "Don't worry, Susannah. They'll love you." We pulled onto their street. I had gotten the first earring in, and was getting the second's back off when someone pulled out of the driveway in front of us suddenly, causing Jesse to swerve around it and swear loudly. In all the commotion, my earring when flying from my hand, and landed somewhere near Jesse's feet.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked, after the other car drove away.

"Yea," I said. "I think I just dropped my earring."

"The house is right around the corner," Jesse said, as he continued driving. "You can find it when we get there."

A minute later, my nerves doubled when he pulled the car into the circular driveway in front of a two-story house. It was a very nice house, an off-white color, with a dark green porch and shutters.

"This is it," Jesse said, and shut the car off. There were a few other cars in the driveway, more than most people have. "I think my mom said Elena would be here, and so would her brother, Luis and his wife Cristina." Then, he gave me a sideways look, and his voice dropped a bit, as if someone were trying to eavesdrop on us. "Listen… my mother doesn't know you're staying all weekend. She thinks you just came up for the day." I grinned.

"Jesse, you naughty boy, lying about your sex life, are you?" I teased. He grinned.

"Just, try not to mention anything that might… get us both in trouble." I winked.

"No problem." Suddenly, I remembered. "Oh, wait, Jesse, my earring." He slid his seat back, and moved his legs. I leaned over the cup holders, and started feeling around on the floor of the driver's seat, hoping to poke myself with the back of the stud. "Oh! Found it!" I exclaimed victoriously. I grabbed onto the steering wheel to hoist myself up.

And saw an older woman, with slightly graying dark hair and eyes remarkably like Jesse's glaring at me with pursed lips.

And I realized that I had just lifted my head from Jesse's lap.

Shit.

Jesse seemed to realize this at the same time, because he very quickly opened the door and got out, as if to be like, 'See, Mom? My pants are completely zippered and buttoned!'

"Hello, Mother," Jesse said, with an edge of nervousness. He kissed her cheek, but she was still staring at me with contempt. I carefully climbed out of the car, still holding the other earring. I felt like a deer in headlights.

I mean, WHAT can you possibly say to a woman who thinks she just caught you performing oral sex on her only son?

In her own DRIVEWAY?

"This is Susannah," Jesse said. I put a smile on my face, and held out my hand, but she looked at it for a moment, before shaking it with disgust.

I was screwed.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. De Silva," I said brightly. "It's great to finally meet you."

She still remained silent.

"While we were driving here, someone pulled out right in front of us," Jesse said, trying to explain how, exactly, I came to have my face between his legs. "Nearly hit us. I managed to swerve, though, and Susannah only lost her earring when she dropped it… she found it, though, near the brake."

"Good thing, too, or I'd have to go around with only one earring on," I joked lamely. She seemed to accept this explanation, though, at least a little.

She turned to Jesse, completely ignoring me, and said, "Come in, it's cold out." And then she took his arm, and led him inside, not sparing me another glance.

Oh God. This is a disaster.

I hurried up the walk behind them, only to have her try to shut the door in my face. I wanted to cry.

But I had grabbed it just before it shut, and gently opened it again. "Haha, don't forget about me!" I said lightly.

"Right, of course," she said darkly. Then she left Jesse and I alone in the foyer while she started off towards the kitchen, calling something in Spanish.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I moaned and Jesse wrapped his arm around me. I buried my head in his chest. "She hates me. She wants to kill me," I groaned. He didn't deny it. How could he?

"_Querida_, I'll work on her. She'll see how much I love you." I squeezed him, grateful of his support.

Then I heard someone running down the stairs. "Jesse!" They cried. We pulled apart, and a young girl, about 8, flung herself at Jesse.

"Anna!" The hugged, and then he set her down. "Anna, this is my friend Susannah. Susannah, this is my youngest sister, Anna Maria."

I gave her a bright smile. "Hi, Anna. It's great to meet you!" Hey, if his mom was a lost cause, at least there were 6 other members of his immediate family.

She smiled back, then turned to Jesse. "_Ella es bonita. ¿Es ella una _amiga especial?" she asked teasingly, whatever she said. Jesse just ruffled her hair.

"_Vas a ayudar madre en la cocina_," Jesse replied. She giggled, and hurried down the hallway.

"What did she say?" I asked. He laughed, but didn't answer me, just pulled me through a formal dining room, into a living room. Jesse's Uncle Jose and two other men were watching football, but when they saw us they waved and called a "Hello" in greeting, while I heard three women talking through the door to the kitchen (and I heard my name mentioned several times). At a table, five girls were playing cards. Jesse took me over to introduce me to the girls.

They varied in age. The oldest was about my age, the youngest was about ten. They all were distinctly Hispanic, like Jesse, with beautiful dark hair and perfect, tan skin. Four of them looked a lot like Jesse, and were clearly his sisters, though the fifth girl there had different features. Her hair was long, and in two braids down to her elbows.

"Hello, girls," he said. They looked up.

"Hey, Jesse! We thought we heard you," one of them said. "Who's she?" She asked, looking at me, perplexed.

"I'm Suze," I said. "I'm a friend of Jesse's." The oldest girl there smirked.

"You mean _girlfriend_, don't you?" she asked, and one of the girls laughed. I smiled. "Jesse never shuts up about you." I grinned, looking at Jesse, whose cheeks were adorably pink.

"Susannah, these are my sisters, Marta," he pointed to the oldest, "Mercedes," a girl about 14, "Carmen," who was about 12 "and Elena." She was the youngest, at ten. "And this is my cousin, Hanna." She was Mercedes' age, and the one who looked a little different. The three women came out from the kitchen. There was Elena, who waved at me as she took a swig of her glass of wine, Jesse's mother, who still looked distrustful, and another woman, who had short hair with golden brown highlights.

"Susannah, great to meet you, I'm Cristina, Jesse's aunt."

"Likewise," I said warmly. "I'm so glad to meet all of you." Laura smiled, but Mrs. De Silva seemed to my stifling an eye roll.

"Nice shoes," Elena said, examining my feet. "Whose are they?"

"Manolo Blahnik," I said. She nodded approvingly.

"Susannah, would you like something to drink?" Mrs. De Silva asked stiffly. I guess Elena worked her down a bit.

"Yes, thank you." I followed her into the kitchen, while everyone else greeted Jesse. She poured me a glass of soda, and just as I was thanking her, she interrupted me.

"Now, listen to me," she said quietly, "I know my Jesse thinks he's in love with you, but trust me, it's just puppy love." I started to open my mouth to reply, but she just kept talking. "My Jesse's a good boy, and he does not need someone like _you_ corrupting him. If you actually cared about _him_, which I doubt, you'd leave him alone and remove your bad influence." And with that, she swept out of the room, leaving me speechless and close to tears.

This could not get any worse. All I wanted was for his family to like me. To accept me.

But all I am is a whore to them.

To my embarrassment, I felt tears spill over my eyelashes, and slide down my face. I couldn't take her telling me that I was a bad influence and a slut, because, well, it's true. I mean, I did sleep with Jesse—his first time, too. I felt sick with guilt about pressuring him.

I went back into the living room, after doing my best to wipe away my tears. Jesse was talking to Elena and Marta, with his mother talking to his father on the other side of the room. Elena looked at me, startled, and I tugged on Jesse's sleeve.

"Jesse, where's a bathroom, my… allergies are acting up," I said, sniffling. Jesse took one look at me, and got angry.

"Mother, what did you say to her?" he half shouted.

"Nothing except the truth," she replied stubbornly. He wrapped his arm around me, and led me away, after saying something back to his mother in Spanish. He pulled me into what appeared to be a study, with a couch, several bookshelves, and a desk. He sat me down on the couch, and came and sat down next to me.

"_Querida_, what did she say?" he asked gently. I shook my head, sniffling and trying to keep the tears in. "Tell me." I took a deep breath.

"Sh-sh-she said th-that I was a bad influence a-and t-that I w-was a whore," I said, with difficulty. "And that y-you d-don't really love me." His lips thinned, and he looked angry.

"Susannah, that isn't true. She's just afraid because you're the first girl I've felt this way about, and she doesn't know how to react."

"But it is true," I sniffed. I took note that the door was firmly shut before pressing on, in hushed tones. "I made you sleep with me. I corrupted you, just like she said!"

Jesse cupped the side of my face, and brushed away a tear with his thumb. "_Querida_, you did no such thing. I did that because I wanted to, more than anything. Not because you pressured or forced me." I sniffed again. "Susannah, I love you. Truly. Never, ever think otherwise." He sighed. "My mom will come around. Like I said, this isn't about you, but her not being the only woman I love anymore. She'll accept that fact, eventually, and when she sees who you are, she'll love you, too."

Consoled a bit, I threw my arms around Jesse and gave him a tight hug. "I love you," I mumbled into his shoulder. He grabbed a tissue from the desk, and handed it to me.

"I know you don't want to go out there with a runny nose and puffy eyes… so I'm going to go have a word with my mother, and you can go into the bathroom and wash up." I nodded gratefully, and followed him down the hall a bit, where he opened the bathroom door for me. As I was shutting it behind me, I heard him say, in a tight voice, "Mother, may I have a word with you?"

When I looked in the mirror, I was very glad Jesse had given me a few more moments to clean up. My eyes were wet and puffy, and some of my mascara and smudged, and my nose was red.

I dried my eyes, and blew my nose, and wiped away the makeup smudges so I looked presentable, if not knock-out like I did before. Oh well. They saw me at my best, already.

When I came back into the living room, everyone was tensely trying to ignore the muted argument between Jesse and his mother outside, half visible through the curtains.

God. I'd caused a family feud, and I'd only been here for about half an hour.

"Are you okay?" Marta asked, concerned. I smiled, and nodded.

"I'm okay now, thanks."

"Just, don't worry about Mom… she did the same thing to my first boyfriend, when I brought him home for Sunday dinner." She looked at me sideways. "Of course, he didn't cry." I laughed, happy that she, at least, seemed to like me. Then Mercedes came over.

"Do you want to help us set the table? We've got decorations and stuff," she offered, and I grinned.

"I'd love to."

They led me back into the formal dining room. Together, we picked out a table cloth from the sideboard, laid out cloth napkins, and made a cornucopia for decoration, all awhile just talking and getting to know each other.

We were busy filling out the place markers and deciding where to put them (I made sure I was next to Jesse, and we were both far away from his mother) when Jesse and his mom came in.

"Here you are," he said. "I was wondering where you'd run off too."

"Suze helped us set the table, Mama," Mercedes said. "She picked out which set of candles looked best with the table cloth." I smiled brightly, as if she hadn't told me I wasn't good enough for her baby just half an hour earlier.

"It looks wonderful, girls," she said stiffly.

"Mother has something to say to you, _Querida_," Jesse said, causing Mercedes to giggle.

"I'm sorry, Susannah. It was not in my place to say those things," she said, just as stiffly as before. It was clear that she did not mean it, and did not want to apologize, but I accepted it anyway.

"It's okay, Mrs. De Silva," I said graciously, just hoping to get it all behind us.

She mumbled something about the turkey, then left the room. Jesse sat down next to me. "What happened?" I whispered. "I didn't cause a fight, did I?" I mean, I didn't want Jesse to have to chose between his mother and me. God, that would suck.

"No, _Querida_, everything is okay. I just needed to have a word with her about interfering in my personal life. She's having difficulty realizing I'm an adult, now, and old enough to make my own decisions. Empty Nest Syndrome. Although, considering she has _these two_ to deal with," he teased, making a face at his two sisters (which they returned), "She should be glad she has one less kid in the house." Then he changed the subject. "So, where am I sitting?" he asked us.

"Next to me," I said grinning.

"And Anna," Marta said. "Down at the other end of the table." There were a lot of people there—8 in Jesse's immediate family alone, plus me, two aunts, two uncles, and a cousin. (Fourteen in all, for those mathematically challenged.).

After we were completely done with setting the places, Marta and Mercedes went off to call their boyfriend and read, respectively. Carmen and Elena came in after they left, asking if Jesse would come and play cards with them. As an afterthought, Elena said shyly, "You can play, too, Susannah."

I followed the two back through the living room, where Jose and Luis were arguing about a referee's call in the football game they were watching, Elena, Cristina, and Hanna were in the kitchen, and Mr. and Mrs. De Silva were discussing something in Spanish. I was starting to feel sort of awkward, as I was clearly the only one who didn't speak Spanish. Even the kids were fluent. I heard Elena say something, and Hanna laughed, and responded in perfect Spanish (well, it sounded perfect, anyway). I also felt sort of weird being Caucasian in a Hispanic house.

Stop being stupid, I told myself. This is the twenty-first century, anyone can date whoever they want.

However, still curious, while Carmen and Elena went to find Anna, who had evidently taken the cards, I asked Jesse, "Everyone here is fluent in Spanish, huh?" even though it was more of a statement. He nodded.

"The whole family moved to the United States from Mexico when I was 6, about thirteen years ago, after my mother's parents died. My father's parents died when he was in his teens, and after they got married, he moved into my mother's house. It was one of those big Mexican families, where everyone lived together. _Abuela_ and _Abuelo_ were the only thing keeping my parents in Mexico, so they decided to move, and soon Luis and Cristina followed, and Elena was already going to college in California. That's where she met Jose, another Mexican immigrant going to school in America. So, obviously, Marta and I learned Spanish first. My parents continued to teach the rest of the kids."

"That's really cool," I said truthfully. Then I made a confession. "It sounds really stupid, but it kind of depresses me that we're stuck with one life. Like, I am always going to be a white girl who grew up in Brooklyn… I wish I had the chance to grow up in a Spanish-speaking household, or be black, or something," I said. "Do you know what I mean?"

(_A/N: This actually depresses me. I want to grow up Bilingual, or some race other than Caucasian. I think that would be really cool.. Unfortunately, it's too late for that. And I hope I didn't come off sounding racist or anything.)_

Jesse laughed. "Yes, Susannah, I know what you mean." Then he shook his head and kissed my forehead.

His sisters returned, and dealt out the deck, informing us we would be playing 'Liar.' I looked at them as they began dealing out the whole deck. "I don't think I know how to play this game."

Jesse nodded. "Yes you do. You just call it a different name." I looked at him blankly, and he gave me another look, like, "Think." Then it occurred to me.

Bullshit.

"Oh, okay." I started sorting my cards.

The game was awesome. I almost slipped up and called, "BULLSHIT!" a few times, but after a few close calls, I accustomed myself to calling, "Liar!"

I played terribly, though. I was having too much fun just watching Jesse and his sisters. Seeing them tease each other and joke around was amazing. It was so obvious that they really cared about each other.

It made me almost want little sisters.

After Elena was proclaimed winner, the two girls ran off to find their sisters, I just sat there staring at Jesse with a little smile on my face. He noticed, and asked, "What?"

I just continued to smile. "Nothing. You're just… very sweet. And the best brother anyone could ask for." He smiled, quickly glanced around the room—no one was paying attention—and leaned in and kissed me softly.

"_Lo sabí! Lo sabí_!" Jesse and I broke apart, to see Anna in the doorway, looking very smug and proud. "_Ella no es solamente una _amiga," she told Jesse. I felt left out once again.

Jesse just went over to her and tickled her, until she shrieked and ran away, laughing. Jesse came back to me, with a grin on his face. He kissed me once more on the lips, quickly, then wrapped his arm around my waist.

At two, Mrs. De Silva announced that it was ready. We all converged in the dining room, where home made cranberry sauce, stuffing, corn, mashed potatoes, rolls, squash, and a salad lay on the sideboard, where the magnificent turkey sat proudly, cooked to perfection. There were also a few dishes I didn't recognize, but took a bit anyway, feeling unusually adventurous as far as food goes.

We all went around to our seats. Jesse pulled the chair out for me. Elena was sitting next to me on the other side, and she smiled as I put my napkin on my lap and took a sip of my iced tea.

"Now, let's all say grace," Mr. de Silva said. Everyone else started holding hands, so I awkwardly took Jesse's hand and Elena's hand. I closed my eyes respectfully, waiting for the Catholic grace, "Bless us our Lord, and these, thy gifts…" but then Mr. de Silva, who was sitting at the head of the table, began praying in Spanish.

Why oh why had I taken French?

At the end, I recognized the "Amen," and I repeated it, thankful to know something. Then we started eating.

For a while I stayed with what I was familiar with, like the turkey and stuffing, while I talked with Mr. de Silva, Luis, Cristina, Jesse, and Elena.

At one point, during the dinner, Mrs. De Silva interrupted me, while I was telling Luis about something my stepbrother David had done, asking, "Susannah, you go to the Catholic Mission, correct?" I nodded. "You're Catholic, then?" I swallowed hard before answering.

"Well, my mom is. But my dad was Jewish. I was baptized and stuff, but I don't go to church. My step-dad goes on Christmas and Easter. My mom stopped going when I was a baby. I guess I'm sort of agnostic. I don't know what I believe. I only go there because my mom didn't want to send me to public school. And, well, the other private school… wasn't right for me." I figured it would be best for me to not say, "I only go to JSMA because my mom doesn't want me to join a gang, and I left the other private school because my ex-boyfriend slept with me, dumped me, and then beat me up."

She didn't say anything, just nodded curtly. Jesse's hand found mine under the table, and he squeezed it reassuringly. I shot him a grateful smile, which he returned.

I decided to try one of the Mystery Dishes. I carefully scooped a small amount onto my fork, and took a hesitant bite. It was delicious.

"Mmm, what is this?" I asked, to no one in particular. "It's really good."

"You've never had paella before?" Elena asked, incredulous. I shook my head, taking another bite.

"Of course, not, Elena," Mrs. De Silva chided. "Susannah is different than us." I choked on the piece of paya or whatever, and Jesse's fork froze in midair. The table grew still.

"What do you mean, Mother?" Jesse asked stiffly, setting his fork down. I couldn't breathe. Elena the Elder looked at my sympathetically, before shooting a disgusted glance at her sister. Mrs. De Silva seemed to be receiving them from Luis and Cristina, too. The other adults looked frightened, as did Marta, but the other children looked confused.

"Well, you can't pretend she _isn't_, Jesse," she said huffily. "She doesn't even speak our language."

Whatever appetite I had was gone. Actually, I felt like I was going to throw up. I was terrified. Jesse looked livid, and his knuckles were white, he was squeezing his hands so tight.

"Mother!" Marta said, scandalized. "What are you _talking_ about?" Even though it was clearly thirteen against one, Mrs. De Silva stood her ground, with a stubborn look on her face.

"She isn't even Catholic. She comes from a completely different background. Her parents aren't even _married_."

"My dad died, actually," I said quietly. "When I was six. From a heart attack." I felt close to tears again. All I wanted for Jesse's mom to accept me, to love me like a daughter. But she hated me, because I'm an Anglo slut.

I guess she assumed my parents divorced, or something. That since I was obviously a terrible person, they were too, and what's more sinful that divorce?

"Lupe, lay off her. You're talking nonsense," Mr. de Silva said. "She's a good girl." Then he added something in Spanish, but that only added insult to injury.

She sniffed, ignoring her husband. "Even so, you cannot deny that you… don't fit in." I looked around, and realized she was right. Twelve sets of eyes (Jesse's were still fixed on his mother) were staring at me, in a mixture of sympathy and disgust at Mrs. De Silva. Twelve sets of _brown_ eyes, staring at my green ones. Twelve darker skinned faces, looking at my pale face. Twelve fluent Spanish speakers, staring at me, a monolingual girl who doesn't know any Spanish beyond "Hola," "taco," and, of course, "Querida."

I slowly took my napkin from my lap, and put it next to my plate. I started to stand up, and mumble a feeble "Excuse me," but Jesse's hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. "Susannah," he said, still shooting daggers at his mother, "Stay. Mother, come with me." Jesse stood up, but she didn't. She just remained sitting insolently, her arms folded across her chest. "_Now_, Mother."

Whoa. I had no idea Jesse's voice could be so harsh and deadly and cutting. Even Mrs. De Silva looked frightened, but only for an instant. Soon, her obdurate look returned, stronger than it was before.

But she stood up.

And followed Jesse out of the dining room, through the kitchen, and back outside to the porch where they had their "discussion" earlier. Now that Jesse was no longer there to hold me in my seat, I quickly stood up and fled the room, feeling tears coming on for the second time that day.

I found the bathroom this time, though, and just tore the box of tissues from the sink counter and sank down on the cool tile floor, sobbing. How could someone be so cruel? So heartless? I loved Jesse. With all my heart. What did how many languages I spoke matter?

The day was a disaster. All I hoped for was that I would wake up, only to find I was still wrapped up in Jesse's sheets, and go to his house and be greeted with a hug and kiss on the cheek, and exclamations on how much she'd wanted to meet me…

I heard a knock at the door. "Suze?" I heard someone say. It was a woman, but I couldn't tell who it was. "Are you okay?" Then I recognized the voice. It was Marta. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose.

"Yea, I'm fine," I lied, sniffling. The door opened a bit, and she peeked her head in. When she saw me, sprawled against the tub, gripping a box of tissues like it was lifeline, with tears down my face and my nose running like mad, she hurried over and wrapped her arms around me.

"Oh, Suze…" she said, letting me cry all over her shoulder. "Don't listen to her. No one thinks like that, we all love you." I just sat there, hugging her and sobbing. She rocked me back and forth.

Eventually, my tears stopped, and I was just left there sniffling. "Thank you," I said. I was more grateful than I could say, having this girl who I just met come and take my side when her mother berated me for being white. "This isn't the way I wanted to first meet Jesse's family."

"Jesse is madder than I've ever seen him," she said. "After you left, we heard him shouting. I've never heard him yell before." She gave me a half smile. "Not since he was about ten, at least, and I stole his plastic stethoscope and fake thermometer." Despite my anguish, I laughed. But then I groaned.

"God, I've ruined their relationship, haven't I?" I moaned. "I never should have come. I destroyed your family. It's all my fault." Marta shook her head emphatically.

"No, you didn't. None of it is your fault at all. It's my mother's. She's always been so conservative and proud of her heritage. She sometimes thinks she's still in Mexico. It's her own fault for being too closed-minded to accept amazing, awesome people who are just a bit different than we are. She dug her own grave in saying those things."

"Do any of the rest of you think that way?" I asked quietly.

"Absolutely not. I can tell, everyone adores you. And everyone can see how much you and my brother love each other."

"Is that okay, though? That's why she said those things to me earlier… Because I was taking her son away."

"You'd never take Jesse away from us," she said. "He loves you, but I know he loves us too." Then she paused. "What _did_ my mother say to you earlier? If you don't mind my asking, of course." I shook my head.

"She told me I was a bad influence and that Jesse doesn't really love me, and it would be best for everyone if I just left him alone." Marta snorted, clearly thinking it was all bullshit.

"I have never, ever seen Jesse look at anyone like he looks at you. If he doesn't really love you, than there is no such thing as love. And how the hell would she think you're a bad influence? She just met you!"

"Well, she thinks she caught me, well, going down on Jesse." Marta looked at me incredulously.

"_What_?" I sighed, and recounted the story of what happened earlier that day in the car with my earring, and how her mom had found us. Marta burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but that seriously is the worst possible first impression ever. No wonder she doesn't like you."

I guess it is something that, someday, I'd be able to laugh about. But right now it made me sick to my stomach.

However, having been significantly cheered up by Marta, we went back into the dining room (after she swore I looked good). Jesse and his mom were still out, and the adults were talking nervously, while some of the younger kids seemed blissfully naïve to what had just been going on.

"Suze!" Cristina greeted, happy to see me. "Are you alright?" I nodded.

"I'm okay, thanks for asking," I said. "I'm sorry I caused all this trouble," I apologized.

"It's not your fault at all," Mr. de Silva said, repeating what Marta had told me. "Lupe gets into her moods sometimes, it's her own doing. You are not at blame in the slightest."

"Don't listen to Lupe, Susannah," Luis said. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. All these kids have made her go crazy." I laughed politely, and took my seat, and took a few swallows of iced tea. All that crying dehydrated me.

A moment later, Jesse reentered the room, alone. "Mother doesn't feel well," he said evenly, sitting back down next to me. "She said she needs some rest."

Everyone else didn't ask questions, just resumed eating and talking. Jesse took one of my hands. "_Querida_, I'm so sorry. I really do not know what has gotten into my mother. Are you alright?" I nodded.

"Marta helped," I said quietly, giving her a smile. She smiled back, then turned her attention to Carmen, who was telling her something. Jesse shook his head.

"Are you sure? I really cannot apologize enough." I squeezed his hand.

"I'm okay, Jesse. But…" I bit my lip. "What happened between you and your mom?" His face darkened, and he sighed.

"Mother…is sometimes stuck in the past. She has difficulty realizing that times have changed. I just had to remind her of that." Jesse saying it that way made it seem like he was just reminding her, "Hey, it's the twenty-first century, remember?" and not the screaming match Marta reported.

"Thank you for sticking up for me," I said. He shook his head.

"Susannah, there is no need to thank me. I would never, ever stand by if someone said those things to you."

We continued eating, as if nothing had happened. Oh, I was still sort of depressed that my possibly future mother in law basically hated me, and had a new desire to get some of those Berlitz Spanish tapes out of the library. But all in all, I knew I had made a new friend in Marta, and I loved the rest of his family.

Jesse's mom re-appeared an hour or so later, but remained reclusive and didn't really talk to anyone. For a second, I felt guilty about ruining her holiday, but then I remembered what a bitch she was to me, and that she was miserable just for me existing, and I stopped feeling bad.

Later that evening, since Jesse had to "drive me back to Carmel," we left. We were bid farewell enthusiastically, and it felt good to be hugged goodbye by Jesse's aunts and uncles and sisters (his father gave me a handshake and a kiss on the cheek).

However, as I heard Jesse talking to his sisters in Spanish, again I felt the cultural barrier between us. I mean, I know he didn't care that I was a white girl, but still. I knew he noticed how quiet I was on the drive back, but he didn't say anything until we were back in the apartment.

"_Querida_, don't think so much about what my mother said to you," he said as he undid the buttons on his shirt. "None of it means anything." I bit my lip, and sat down on the bed.

"But Jesse, what if she was right? I mean… we come from two completely different backgrounds. I know neither of us care… but what about everyone else?" Jesse came over and sat down next to me, and took my hands.

"Susannah, we're the only people who matter. What my mother thinks doesn't change anything about how I feel about you." And then he leaned in to kiss me.

And, partly out of spite for Jesse's mother, we quickly shed each other's clothing and fell against the bed, kissing each other and loving each other.

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**Okay. Long chapter for me. Hope you liked it. You might find out what Mrs. Ackerman found next chapter, if that's any incentive to review. Please?**


	3. Chapter 3

Right, so I realized that I think I said, last chapter, that Suze went on the Pill before she slept with Paul, but that Cee Cee drove her to go get it. I apologize for the inconsistency.

Aisu-Hime—thanks for the offer, but I think that's the only chapter that I really am going to use any Spanish. I always forget the command rule, lol. But, if I need any help, I know who to ask :)

0000000000000000

The next two days with Jesse were as good as the first evening—and a thousand times better than Thanksgiving. We spent most of Friday at his apartment, er, hanging out, but we eventually got dressed and went out with some of Jesse's friends to a local diner that they apparently hang out at all the time.

Four of Jesse's friends were there—Mark's girlfriend Jenna, a sort of geeky looking girl named Tracy, and two guys, Bryan and Joe. Mark apparently usually hangs out with them, though Jesse told me, even though they're roommates, he's much closer to everyone else than he is with Mark. Tracy and Bryan were both pre-med, like Jesse, and Joe and Jenna were studying pre-law and Culture and Politics, respectively. They were all a lot of fun, but Jesse was right about Jenna and I—we got along great. Although, sometimes, she was a bit difficult to follow. Being a Culture and Politics major, she knew just about everything about, well, culture and politics of the last 40 years or so. And she made constant allusions to it. Most of the time I was able to take it out of context, but at one point, she said, "He's really drinking the Kool-Aid for her, isn't he?"

We all stared at her blankly, until she sighed, exasperated, and explained. "You know. The People's Temple? Jim Jones? The mass suicide with the Kool-Aid and the cyanide?" Then we got it.

They really were a great group of people. Even though Jesse was the only freshman among them (Jenna and Bryan were sophomores, Tracy and Joe were juniors), Jesse was easily the most mature of the group, which I found amusing.

Later that night, when Jesse and I went back to his apartment, we again took advantage of being alone (until the wee hours of the morning). At a bit after ten, I woke up and found myself curled against Jesse, with my head on his shoulder, my arm across his chest, and my legs bent up on top of his.

"Mmm… good morning," I mumbled. He kissed the top of my head.

"Good morning, _Querida_," he replied, tracing random shapes on my back with his fingertips. It felt amazing. I lifted my head up and kissed him on the lips, rolling myself on top of him. He kissed me back, his hands sliding down my body slowly. I slipped my hands around his neck, and starting playing with his hair.

However, we were both still pretty tired (our lack of sleep all weekend was catching up with us), and we soon pulled apart and just lay together again, holding each other. I loved the feeling of waking up next to him… I don't know what I'm going to do when I go home and can't stay up all night with him and have to wake up, all alone, every day.

"_Querida_, I have to go out today to do something. Why don't you just hang around the apartment for an hour or two?"

"Can I come with you?" I asked, snuggling against him.

"You would be very bored," he said. "I just need to see a professor, pick up some books from the library, buy a few supplies, that sort of thing." I yawned.

"Okay… just don't take too long." He kissed my forehead, and my eyelids closed themselves and I fell back asleep.

A little while later, I woke up, and found myself alone in bed. Jesse must have left. I lay there for a few more minutes, underneath the covers, until my stomach growled. Then I got out of bed, in search of food.

I wrapped myself in the bathrobe (which is indeed Jesse's), and ventured into the kitchen, and made myself tea and a sandwich. After I ate lunch (I decided to forgo breakfast, as it was after noon), I realized that my mom hadn't called since I talked to her Wednesday night. She usually called more often when I went somewhere for more than one night.

I dug my cell phone out of my purse, and checked. One message, but it was from Cee Cee, asking me how things went with the de Silva's. So I called her back, and filled her in on the most terrible Thanksgiving I'd ever had. And that includes the one when I was six (almost seven). It was my mom's first time cooking Thanksgiving dinner all by herself (she was a terrible cook—my dad usually did it) and ended up undercooking the turkey, and I got food poisoning and was throwing up all day and all night.

At least then, I didn't have to endure racist mothers who think I'm a whore.

Cee Cee reassured me that it didn't mean anything in the long run, that everyone else was right, and that she was just being overprotective and was afraid to lose her baby. She also found the car incident hilarious.

I don't know why, but the fact that my mom didn't call at all worried me a bit. When I mentioned this to Cee, she merely suggested, "Maybe she realizes you've grown, and she doesn't need to check in with you every day."

After I hung up with her, I took a shower, got dressed into some soft, worn jeans and a pink tank top and a cord blazer, and then just wandered around the apartment, checking out book titles of Jesses' and seeing what CDs were stacked against the wall. A pretty broad mix of music—Juanes, The White Stripes, The Beatles, Queen, and Frank Sinatra, to name a few.

After a while, I decided now was the time to get working on my English homework and finish reading "Book the First" of "A Tale of Two Cities." I had already plowed through the first few chapters, and managed to finish before Jesse returned from his errands.

He got back a little after 4:30, with a few books in his arms. "Hello, _Querida_," he greeted, setting the books on a table and giving me a kiss. "I hope you weren't too bored hanging out here."

"Nah, I called Cee Cee and caught up with some homework," I said, pulling him down on the couch next to me. I pulled him back down into a kiss, this time it was certainly not a greeting.

We fell back against the couch, kissing. My arms went around his neck, my fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head. His hand went under my lower back, and pressed me against him. I arched my back into him as his tongue explored my mouth (although, at this point, I think his tongue knows my mouth as well as it knows his own).

I let out an involuntary gasp when Jesse's knee pressed between my legs. His lips left mind for a minute, to kiss my neck and the skin exposed by the tank top on my chest. My hands went into his hair, running my hands through it (and gripping it when his lips hit a particularly sensitive spot). Jesse's hands left my back, and traveled to my front, pushing aside my jacket. Then, they slipped down to my waist again, sliding up my sides, only this time under the shirt.

After a good half an hour of this, we slowed down and came up for proper air. Neither of us had enough energy to take it into the bedroom. At least, not now, anyway. After a few minutes of panting, Jesse checked his watch.

"_Querida_, I made reservations for us to go out, tonight." As I began to protest, Jesse silenced me with a single finger on my lips. "I want to have a nice dinner… one that won't be ruined by my mother," he added darkly. "They're for 6:30, but can you be ready to leave by 5:45?" I nodded.

We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, just holding each other and catching our breath.

At about 5:20, I untangled myself from Jesse, grabbed my bag, and slipped into the bathroom. I changed into my black skirt again and a silky shirt and matching shoes (and my mom said I had packed too much. I was making use of it all!), fixed my hair and make up, and was ready to leave by Jesse's deadline.

We went on a walk along the Salinas River. I had my arm around his waist and my head on his shoulder, his arm holding me around my waist protectively. I was still a bit worried about my mom—what if she didn't call because something happened? I confessed my feelings to Jesse, and he just squeezed me with the hand that was around my waist.

"I'm sure everything's fine. If something happened, they'd call you. You're almost an adult" (one more week) "and I think your mother is realizing this." I shrugged, not entirely convinced. "Why don't you call her, if it will make you feel better?" Jesse offered, and pulled out his cell phone.

I dialed the numbers, and it rang a few times before someone picked up. "Yeah?"

It was Brad.

"Hey, it's Suze, um, is Mom there?" I asked.

"No." I heard him chewing. I made a face.

"Well, um, is everyone… okay?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" he asked stupidly. I sighed. Even Brad would know to tell me if, like, David had a freak accident with his model of the Solar System and Jupiter fell on him or something.

"Just tell her I called to check in, and that I'm fine," I said, and hung up. I handed the cell phone back to Jesse, and made a face.

"Was that Brad?" he asked, with a slight smile on his face. I rolled my eyes. "Everything is okay, though?" I nodded. "Good." We continued walking.

We got to the restaurant a few minutes early, and had to wait for our table to be ready. The restaurant was nice, but not the $30-for-a-salad kind of nice. The hostess brought us to our table, gave us our menus, and walked away.

I scanned the restaurant. Jesse and I were the youngest couple in the room. There was one or two families, and a few business dinners, and a couple Father-daughter tables, but the majority of the people there were obviously romantically involved, but they were all in their late twenties or older… Jesse and I were 19 and 17, respectively.

I put my hands on the table, and he reached across and held them. We spent the evening talking and eating (he got a steak, I got penne al vodka). The food was delicious. After the waiter cleared away our food, and Jesse ordered a slice of chocolate cake for us to share, he took my hand again.

"I tried my best to work with my schedule, but I can't come down for your birthday," he said. My face fell. "I'm sorry. I want to come, but it just can't happen… I can't come down, in fact, until the end of the semester." He squeezed my hands. "But I wanted to give you your present now." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a box, about 7 inches long and 2 inches wide. I smiled at him, and opened the box.

Inside, on a velvet cushion, lay a silver bracelet, with alternating designs and red stones. "Oh, thank you, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, examining it.

"So are you," he replied. He took the bracelet out of the box and put it on my wrist, turning my hand over to fasten the toggle. Then he brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed my fingers. I leaned across the table and kissed his lips, briefly.

Then the waiter came, with our dessert. In the center was a single white candle. I quickly made a wish, and blew it out.

The cake was great, as expected. After we finished, and Jesse paid (despite my offer to split it), we left and headed back to the apartment.

By the time we got there, though, neither of us could keep our hands off each other. Let me tell you, it is very difficult to kiss and walk at the same time—but we managed.

In his hallway, Jesse pressed me against the door, kissing me while fumbling with his keys. As he finally pulled them out of his pocket, and managed to jam it in the lock, I heard someone whistle. One of his neighbors, probably.

But we ignored it, fell through the door when it opened, and slammed it shut behind us. We stumbled through his dark apartment, kissing without abandon, and tripping over things in the dark. However, we made it into the bedroom without much bodily harm.

Jesse pushed me down onto the bed, and fell along with me. I broke apart from him only to pull myself up to the pillows—he crawled with me. I tugged at his shirt buttons until they came undone, and I pushed the shirt off of him. He grabbed my shirt's hem and pulled it up and over my head, before leaning back in and kissing me deeply.

"Oh, _Querida_," he breathed hoarsely into my lips. His fingers left my waist and went to the zipper of my skirt, undoing it quickly, and then pulling it off carefully, sliding it down my legs while he watched my skin appear, entranced.

I know I can never get enough of him, even after this wonderful sex-filled weekend—I guess it was the same for him with me.

I pulled myself out from under him, and went down to his feet to get rid of his shoes—I had kicked my heels off right when we got in the door, but his socks and shoes were still on. Too impatient to deal with laces, I just yanked them off, then pulled the socks off with them. Then I went for his pants, and then his boxers.

We both knew it was our last night together for a while, and I wanted to make it something to remember.

So I stood up over him, with one foot on either side of his knees.

"Susannah, what are you doing?" he asked breathlessly, looking up at my almost naked body. His voice was hoarse and husky, and it made my knees weak. "Get back down here."

He stopped his protests when I unclasped my bra, but held it in place with one hand. Then I slid one strap down my arm, then the other. His eyes watched me hungrily. I let go, and it fell onto his hips. I kicked it aside with one foot (which is a tribute to some awesome balance skills from kick boxing—not everyone can stand on one foot on a spring mattress).

Then my fingers hooked around my underwear, and I slowly pulled it down, doing a spontaneous little hip-wiggle I would never have done if I hadn't been so drunk on Jesse. I leaned down to free my legs—giving quite a view to Jesse—and then knelt down on my knees, one on either side of his hips. He was breathing heavily, his beautiful chest rising and falling rapidly, even though we hadn't been kissing. I smirked, then leaned over his torso and placed a hand on either side of his chest. His hands gripped my hips, and I kissed him sensuously before lowering myself onto him.

He groaned, obviously pleased with this role reversal. "Oh, Susannah…" he gasped. I kissed him again, deeply, while I did what I was supposed to do in this position to make both of us _very_ happy.

He pressed me against him tightly. His eyes were half shut, and he was making noises in his throat that seemed very gratifying. The pressure building inside of me exploded moments later, and I collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. I stretched my legs out from my kneeling position, and entangled them in Jesse's legs, his hair feeling strange against my smooth skin.

After a few moments of catching our breath, Jesse's arms came around me. I rested my head on his chest. When I finally felt confident in my voice, I spoke.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you the next few weeks," I said. He murmured in agreement. "I think we're turning into nymphos." I felt his laugh in his chest, which vibrated into my cheek.

"Oh, Susannah," he said, running his hands up and down my back. He kissed the top of my head. "I love you." I smiled against his skin. I never got tired of hearing those words.

"I love you, too," I said. We spent the next few minutes in silence, just holding each other. Jesse's hands traced circles and squares and squiggles on my back, moving from my neck down to my lower back.

When I was ready for more, I started kissing his chest and stomach and shoulders. After a few moments, I felt something harden against my inner thigh, and Jesse rolled over on top of me and attacked my collarbone and chest with his lips, and I knew round two was just minutes away.

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When I woke up the next morning, Jesse was still asleep. A glace at his watch told me we had to be leaving in about an hour and a half. My mom wanted me home by early afternoon, plus Jesse needed to be back at his parents' house for their 6:00 Sunday meal. He promised to talk to his mother about me.

I untangled myself from Jesse's sleeping form, and tiptoed to the bathroom to take a shower. I was already naked, so I didn't have to bother disrobing. I just turned the water on, and stepped in.

I was too absorbed in my mild depression about having to leave Jesse to hear the bathroom door open. Or it might have been the shampoo that I was rinsing out of my hair. But either way, I froze in shock when I felt arms come around my waist. I felt hot breath against my ear, completely different than the steam that was rising from the water.

"What do you think you're doing, getting out of bed?" Jesse's voice purred, and he kissed behind my ear, and down my neck. One of his hands slid up from my waist, and found one of my breasts. I gasped, still surprised, then collected myself and turned around.

Jesse was naked and dripping wet (obviously). He had a small smile on his face, and his hands held my hips. I grabbed the container of body wash, and dispensed some into my palm. I rubbed my hands together, so it got foamy. I slowly started rubbing Jesse's chest, then his arms, and his back, making him all sudsy.

"We should take advantage of you being in the shower and clean up," I said innocently, as if there was nothing else on my mind but making sure Jesse's skin wasn't dirty.

Of course, he realized my innocence was feigned when I spent a bit more time soaping up between his legs.

When I was done cleaning him, he did the same for me. He took the bottle from me, and made a lather in his own hands, before slowly caressing them over my body. The hot water rinsed all the suds off, and I leaned against the shower wall. Jesse came against me, kissing down from my lips to my breasts.

The combination of the hot water massaging my muscles and Jesse's lips massaging the center of my one of my breasts, my legs could no longer support me, and my knees started to give in.

However, Jesse didn't seem to want me to fall over, and he grabbed my legs and hoisted me up. He pressed me more firmly against the shower wall, and I held onto him with both my legs and arms. His lips were like fire, that wasn't being extinguished by the water. Rather, the water that was pouring down our bodies seemed to ignite the flames that Jesse was causing on my skin, causing me to get hotter and hotter.

I breathed heavily, clinging to Jesse's wet body. The tile felt oddly cold against my back, and it kept me from bursting into flame completely.

But everything I was feeling multiplied when I felt Jesse inside of me.

I moaned and panted as Jesse did his thing, all awhile keeping me safe from falling. When it was over, though, and my moans had quieted, Jesse slowly sat me back down on the floor of the shower. The water was still streaming, but it was cooling down.

A few minutes later, I was still leaning against the wall of the shower, and Jesse turned off the water. For some reason, just standing there naked with Jesse felt odd, whereas it was completely natural when the water was running.

Jesse wrapped a towel around me, and kissed me briefly before grabbing one for himself and securing it around his waist. When we emerged from the bathroom, I jumped when I saw a male figure in the kitchen. He smirked.

It was Mark. He had obviously returned from his sister's house during our, ahem, rather lengthy shower.

"Saving water by showering together?" he asked. "Or were you just screwing?" Jesse gave him a dirty look. "I'll take it your answer would be the latter. So, did you two have fun this weekend?" Jesse's look darkened, and I slipped into the bedroom to get dressed.

I quickly put on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, and threw my hair in a messy, wet bun. Jesse came in while I was packing my stuff up. He too got dressed, and then apologized for Mark.

"You wouldn't believe he's twenty-one, he acts fifteen," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. I smiled.

"It's okay. All guys are like that. You're the anomaly." I went over to him, put my hand on his cheek, and kissed him.

We remained like that for several minutes, until I caught sight of the alarm clock on the bedside table. I sighed.

"We should probably get something to eat before we leave," I said. Jesse nodded.

"How about we head out now, and get something at the diner around the corner… and avoid Mark?" I laughed, and agreed.

We put my bag in his car, before going to the diner, where I got hash browns and pancakes, and Jesse got an omelet or some other egg thing.

An hour and a half later, he pulled his car into my driveway. I sighed sadly, not wanting to leave Jesse. He parked the car, and turned it off. He faced me, and put a hand on my cheek.

"I'm going to miss you," I said, looking into his brown eyes. They looked sad, too.

"I'll miss you, too," he said. "But it isn't going to be nearly as long as before. Only three weeks." I sighed.

"That's still too long," I complained. He closed the space between us and kissed me. After a few moments of making out, I broke away slightly, so I could talk. "How about we just turn around, and drive back? I'll just stay with you forever, and live with you in your apartment. You, me, and Mark," I said jokingly. As much as I would love that, we both knew it would never happen.

We resumed kissing, but then there was a knock on the car window, and we pulled apart. My mom was there, and she didn't look happy to see me.

"Come inside, Susannah." Susannah? What was going on? I climbed out, shooting Jesse a flummoxed look, and grabbed my bag from the trunk. Jesse got out of the car, too, and I was giving him a final good-bye kiss when my mom said firmly, "Now, please." I gave him a worried look, whispered, "I'll call you," and then hurried inside after my mother.

She had stalked right to the kitchen, but I set my bag down at the foot of the stairs. I was thirsty, but wasn't planning on going into the kitchen when my mom was acting oddly pissed off. I sat down on the couch, waiting for her retreat so that I could slip in and get a glass of juice.

But when I did hear her stalk out of the kitchen, instead of going upstairs, or out onto the deck, she came into the living room, and stood in front of me, glaring. I glanced at her nervously.

"What?" I asked. "What's going on?" She threw something on my lap. When I looked at it, I felt my stomach drop to my feet, and my heart start pounding.

Shit.

On my lap was the bag that the pharmacy we go to puts prescriptions in. But it wasn't my migraine prescription.

It was my birth control pills.

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Uh oh. Review, please.


	4. Chapter 4

I stared at the package on my lap, feeling the simultaneous draining of blood and heating of my face. I gaped wordlessly, not even sure what was going on.

It was a bad dream, that's all. I'll wake up, and still be in Jesse's arms, and I'll refuse to leave (although, actually, I could stand a repeat of our shower). I would come home, to find my mom excited to see me, she'd kiss Jesse on the cheek and thank him for driving me home…

I couldn't look my mother in the face. I just kept staring at the package, willing myself to wake up. I mean, she KNEW now that I wasn't a virgin. And judging by the angry look on her face, she wasn't going to go Cool Mom and give sex tips like some parents.

"Would you like to explain this?" she asked, breaking the silence. I swallowed. Hard.

"How… where…" I began, feeling unable to talk.

"I went to the drug store to pick up your migraine medicine. Imagine my surprise when they handed me _two_ prescriptions for Susannah Simon, instead of just one," she said scathingly. Her sarcasm and anger felt like a slap on the face.

Damn migraines. Just one more reason to hate them.

"Well, you know… these pills have lots of other purposes," I said slowly, trying to pull myself out of the hole. "You know, with acne…and—" She cut me off.

"Don't give me that." I gulped again. "You've never had a problem with acne. Or your period." I tried to think up something else to say, to come up with another reason I'd be taking birth control other than that I was having sex regularly.

But I failed. And just sat silently, looking away from my mom.

"You must think I've been wonderfully naive, Susannah," she said, again using my full name—something she never does unless she's majorly pissed off. "Letting you two hang out in your room with the door closed, sleeping over at his house…" I thought it would be best not to say that we'd only started having sex when he went to college. For the months prior to our first time, whenever we were in my room or I was sleeping over at his house, we never did anything inappropriate. Well, I mean, we made out. Second base, tops. But that's it.

It was now that Brad wandered down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He didn't even notice I was home.

Then my mom started up again. "I thought I could trust you. Both you and Jesse. But it's obvious I can't." I tried to decide whether it would be good to just admit that I was having sex, or just still deny it. I was still deciding when Brad re-entered the room.

"What's going on?" he asked stupidly as he shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. Mom ignored him.

"I wouldn't be quite as upset if you had just _told_ me. I thought we were close enough that you could trust me to confide in these decisions. But having sex _behind my back_…" she trailed off again in anger.

Brad's mouth dropped, releasing some of the chips from his mouth. "Whoa. Suze is having sex?" he asked eloquently. "de Silva is screwing her?" Mom shot him a look.

"Not _now_, Brad." At least he hadn't come in when she was talking about my period. He still looked surprised that I wasn't a virgin. That actually sort of made me mad. That he had just naturally assumed no one would want to have sex with me. He left, though, sucking down more chips.

I cowered in my seat more. "But at least I'm protecting myself…" I said, deciding at that instant to just admit that I was having sex.

"You're too young," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm almost eighteen," I challenged.

"You weren't when you first had sex," she said. She had a point. I slept with Paul when I was sixteen.

"How do you know?" I challenged. My apprehension had evolved to frustration and anger.

Her eyes flashed. "You expect me to believe you and Jesse have only _just_ started sleeping together? Maybe you started this weekend at his _apartment_?" I blanched.

"What?" I asked.

"I know you lied to me about being at his parents' house," she growled. "I wanted to speak to you, and your cell phone was off. So I found the number you have for him in the Rolodex. Only I no one picked up, and the machine message was for 'Jesse and Mark.'" Now that she mentioned that, I vaguely remembered on Friday night, in the middle of our second or third round, the phone had rung, but Jesse and I had ignored it. Maybe Jesse didn't hear—I mean, I was making a lot of noise. "I'm not stupid. Don't even try whatever pathetic excuse you're trying to come up with." I closed my eyes.

No wonder she was so mad. Not only did I lie about having sex, I didn't tell her I wasn't staying at a family house, but with Jesse alone. All weekend.

I was in trouble. Big time.

"I… didn't tell you?" I said, feigning ignorance. "I thought I did… maybe you didn't hear me…"

It was a terrible argument, I know. But I was panicking.

"You _lied_ to me. About where you were and who you were with."

"You knew I was going to be with Jesse," I said. She ignored me, and continued on with her rant.

"You're too young to understand the consequences of your actions. I thought Jesse would be a good influence on you, but I see I was wrong." I gaped at her. Jesse was a better influence than anyone! "I don't want you two to see each other anymore." I got up, angrily.

"What? No! You can't do that!" I cried. Her lips thinned.

"Yes I can."

"But I'm almost 18! I'll be able to do whatever I want!" Except drink alcohol legally. But that wasn't really pertinent to the conversation, and besides, if I said that, she'll probably think I spend my Friday nights downing shots, or something.

"You're still _my_ daughter, and while you live under this roof you will do what I say! And for now on, I forbid you to see Jesse."

"But Mom, that's not fair!" I exclaimed. But she didn't listen to me, just left the room.

In anger, I picked up one of the pillows on the couch and threw it across the room. I ran up the stairs to my room, slammed the door in clichéd teenage angst, and threw myself on the bed and screamed into the pillow.

Forbidden to see Jesse? I would go insane. You can't just _not see_ someone you love so much. I mean, even during our two-month absence from each other, we knew we'd see each other at Thanksgiving, and Jesse promised that any spare day he got he'd drive down—of course, this never happened, but it kept me sane, knowing that for all I knew, Jesse's classes had been cancelled for the day, and I'd leave school and see his car in the parking lot, waiting for me.

But not being allowed to see him at all. At least, not for another 9 months or so, when I leave for college and am not living with my mom year-round.

And I thought two months was bad. But _nine_? I couldn't go nine months without seeing him. And for all I knew, my mom wouldn't let me call him either. I'd die if she went that far. Just die.

I know this sounded all melodramatic. But this was Jesse we were talking about. Jesse, the man who I loved more than anyone in the world. Jesse, who I just had an amazing, romantic weekend with.

I knew Jesse wasn't home yet, so even though I wanted to call him and let him know what was going on, I waited for another hour. Then I called his apartment, my eyes still misting slightly and my voice still shaky.

"Hello?" A male voice, but not Jesse. Probably Mark.

"Can I talk to Jesse?" I asked. There was a pause, and I heard dimly someone call, "de Silva! Phone!" It was another moment before Jesse's voice filled my ear. "Jesse?" I said. The mere sound of his voice made me even more upset, and I started crying again.

How could I last without him?

"_Querida_? What's the matter?" he asked, suddenly concerned. I sniffled.

"My mom…she…" I had difficulty choosing appropriate words. "She knows about us."

Jesse sounded bewildered. "Yes, I know she knows… we've been dating for more than a year. Of course she knows."

"No," I whispered, hearing footsteps outside the hall. "She knows about _us_. And about this weekend." He was silent.

"About… where you were?"

"And what we did," I said miserably. He was silent for a while.

"Is she… upset?" I sniffled.

"I've never seen her so mad. She said… she said I can't see you. Ever again." I heard the sounds of someone sitting down—heavily. Jesse groaned quietly.

"Do you think she's serious? Or just something she said in the heat of the moment?" I bit my lip.

"I don't know… she sounded pretty serious," I said sadly. Jesse sighed again.

"_Querida_, don't worry, I'll try to think of something, okay?"

"Okay," I sniffed. Jesse softened his voice, and made it reassuring.

"Listen, Susannah… I love you. That's what matters. I'm sure your mom will come around, okay? This isn't permanent. I'll never let it be."

"I love you too, Jesse," I said, just as the door of my room opened. My mom was there, still brooding and glaring at me.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked. I hesitated.

"I have to go," I said. Jesse probably realized what was going on.

"Okay, _Querida_. I'll e-mail you later. If you can't call, just e-mail me. We'll work something out. I love you." And then he hung up.

"Was that Jesse?" she asked. I nodded. Her nostrils flared. "I thought I had made myself clear about _him_." She said 'him' like his name was a dirty word, something not to be said in polite company. My anger flared up.

"Since when was talking on the phone seeing him?" I snapped.

"I don't want you to be in contact with him at all." I gaped at her. That was insane, it was punishment above and beyond my crime.

"Mom!" I cried. "You can't _do_ that. You _can't stop me_ from talking to him!"

I had pushed too far. My mom went over to my desk, leaned underneath it, and ripped the landline phone jack from the wall and then took both my cell phone and my regular phone from the desk, and left the room.

"_What?_" I nearly shrieked. "What are you _doing_?"

"Making sure you obey your mother," she said. I followed her out of the room and down the hall into her room, but she shut the door behind her, and, from the sounds of the click near the doorknob, locked it.

She'd gone crazy. Seriously, that was the only explanation to her behavior. I pounded on the door, but she didn't answer. She was obviously stashing my phones somewhere. I heard Andy's voice, trying to calm my mom down. I guess he was hiding when I came home, trying to avoid the confrontation.

In disgust, I gave up, and went back to my room, slammed the door, and threw myself on the bed again.

First no _seeing_ Jesse. Now I can't even hear his voice? Listen to him reassure me, compliment me, tell me he loves me. I can't even tell him that I love him.

I never knew someone could go from such an emotional high to so low in just over an hour.

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I didn't leave my room for the rest of the day, ignoring the shouts that dinner was ready. I just didn't eat. I was comforted in the slightest when I remembered that Jesse was going to e-mail me that night, and before I went to bed, there it was.

It was short, just telling me to keep calm and behave, and maybe I'd be let off for good behavior. I e-mailed him back, miserably, telling him not to bother trying to call any of the phone numbers he had for me, because my cell phone and regular phone were probably locked in my mom's closet, and if she happened to pick up if he called the family line, he'd be dead.

The next morning, I got dressed in black pants and a black sweater set (I dressed to reflect my mood) and didn't leave the room until I heard Brad starting up the car, at which point I grabbed all of my stuff, completely ignored my mom at the dining room table, grabbed an apple from the kitchen, and left the house.

I didn't get a chance to talk to Cee Cee or Adam before school, but right before lunch Cee Cee found me and asked me how the weekend went. I sighed, remembering just being with Jesse.

"The weekend was great, after the Thanksgiving debacle. The return home sucked horrendously."

"What happened? I tried to call, but your cell phone was off and your other line was disconnected." I sighed.

"My mom went psycho and disconnected my phone line and took my cell phone away." She looked at me, surprised.

"Why?"

I launched into an explanation. "Well, you know Jesse and I are, you know, slee—" She cut me off.

"I know what you and Jesse do in your spare time, just please, no details. I don't need to hear about two of my best friends boffing each other senseless." I smiled. But then it turned back into a frown.

"Well, my mom found out. And she knows that I was at Jesse's apartment, not his parents' house." Cee Cee gaped at me.

"How?" I groaned at the memory.

"A combination of bad luck and not thinking. She went to go get my migraine medicine, only they gave her another prescription," I said. She understood me perfectly, and winced. "So then she tried to call and talk to me, only Jesse and I didn't hear the phone—" She again shot me a look "—and got his machine, which told her that it wasn't his family's house that I was at."

"So she disconnected your phone? That's sort of random," Cee Cee said. "I mean, the punishment doesn't really fit."

"No," I said, sighing sadly. "She forbid me to contact Jesse ever again. She disconnected the phones because I called him to tell him what was going on, only she overheard so she took away all forms of communication with him. I can't even talk to him. We've been downgraded to having to e-mail each other. God knows it will only be a few days until she figures out my password and deletes the account or something." Cee Cee stared at me. Adam came up with his corn dogs and sat with us.

"Hey, what's up? Why so sad?" he asked, seeing my miserable expression and Cee Cee's shocked face.

"That is terrible!" she said. I nodded. "A total violation of your 8th amendment rights." I looked at her blankly.

"My right to bear arms?" I asked. She rolled her eyes disgustedly.

"That's the second, genius. I'm talking about cruel and unusual punishments." Oh. "You lied, yes, and you had sex with Jesse behind her back--" Adam, who had just taken a swallow of soda, choked and looked between us. I'd never told him that Jesse and I were sleeping together. It just seemed sort of an awkward conversation starter. 'Hey, Adam, guess what Jesse and I did this weekend?' "—but forbidding contact is awful! She took away your emergency cell phone! What happens if you get hit by a car, or kidnapped?"

"Cee, I use the cell phone in between the kidnappings and hit-and-run accidents," I said. "And my mom knows it. She's the one who gets the bill." She waved her hand impatiently.

"But she got it for you for emergencies, right?" I nodded. "And besides, not even letting you talk to your boyfriend is harsh."

"Wait, what's going on? Who's having sex and getting hit with cars?" I rolled my eyes and took his corn dog and took a bite before handing it back.

Suddenly, Cee Cee's eyes lit up. Then she reached in her bag and pulled out her cell phone and shoved it at me. "Call him on my phone."

"Really?" I asked hopefully. "You don't mind? I'm not, like, wasting minutes?" She shook her head.

"Your and Jesse's _true love_," she said, only half mockingly, "is worth spending 10 or 15 minutes on my phone. Besides, you're the only one I actually talk to a lot on here, and now that you don't have a cell phone, there's practically no point in having one."

"Except in case you get kidnapped," I reminded her while I was taking the phone. She grinned.

I excused myself to a garden behind the school, and sat on a bench and dialed the familiar digits. I prayed that he wouldn't be in class, that he would be on break if he was at work…

I guess my presence at a Catholic school helped my prayers get through, because after a few rings, Jesse's wonderful voice came through—only the slightest bit staticy.

"Hey, Cee Cee," he said. I guess he checked the caller ID.

"It's me!" I said excitedly.

"_Querida_, oh, it's great to hear your voice." His voice had a relief in it, like he had tried to resign himself to not being able to talk to me for months, but was having difficulty.

"I only have a few minutes. Cee is letting me borrow her phone… but I had to call."

And the next five minutes, just being able to hear Jesse's voice, was the happiest moment all day.

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Review, please.


	5. Chapter 5

My birthday came a week later. Normally, turning 18 would be a milestone and I would be ecstatic. There was a small sense of pride in my being an adult, but it was overwhelmed by my sadness and anger.

I was surprised when my mom actually granted me the smallest reprieve from my grounding—she let me drive down to a gas station and buy a lottery ticket. Of course, she told me to be back in five minutes and if I wasn't, she'd take away my computer for a week.

As e-mail and instant messaging was just about the only communication source with Jesse—besides occasional 10 or 15 minutes phone calls during lunch with Cee Cee's cell phone—I didn't risk being late one bit.

When I came back, we had my birthday dinner (a type of pasta Andy makes with a tomato, onion, and bacon sauce), and then he brought out a cake to the table, and I blew out the 19 candles (I wished to see Jesse again).

I was pretty sure my mom didn't have much to do with the celebration. She was still angry at me beyond belief. We haven't spoken a word beyond anything necessary, and she hasn't relented at all with my punishment. She still doesn't even let me hang out with Cee Cee or Adam after school.

After cake, I got my presents. Gift certificates to different clothing and shoe stores, which was pretty nice, and CDs mostly. Just when I thought I had opened the last present—a necklace with big, round wooden beads—my mom came into the room (she had left before presents. Andy was the one who gave them to me, along with David. Brad looked bored, but Andy made him stay. Same with Jake, who looked asleep.) She put down a pile of wrapped rectangular presents.

"These are from me," she said. I was surprised. Was this some sort of reconciliation, giving me presents just from her? Ever since she married Andy, the cards had always said, "Love, Mom and Andy."

I took the first of the four packages and unwrapped it. I realized when I felt it that it was a book. I wondered vaguely if it was the new book in a series that I like, before I ripped the wrapping paper off the cover.

My elation at a compromise evanesced, and anger boiled up as I read the title.

"Sex Smart: 501 Reasons To Hold Off on Sex."

I put it down, glaring, and picked up the next book and unwrapped it.

"Celibacy, Culture, and Society."

Again, with only a glimmer of hope that the next and last book was different, I tore off the wrapping paper.

"A Hard Choice: Sexual Abstinence in an Out-Of-Control World."

And get this: the last book was written by a guy named Jesus.

My mom got be a book on not having sex by a guy named Jesus.

Now, I'm not stupid, I know he was probably Hispanic and it was pronounced Hay-zeus, but still. Subliminal messaging, much?

I glared at my mother, picked up my presents—my other presents—and started up the staircase.

"You're welcome," she said snidely. "You forgot these." She picked up the books, and placed them on top of the two or three boxes, the envelopes, and a few CDs. I gave her a sarcastic smile, and then stalked up to my room.

I groaned as I threw the books in a drawer in my desk, not wanting to even look at them. My mom was taking the whole sex thing _way_ too far. I was going to go insane if I didn't get out of the house soon.

I sighed, and turned on the computer to check my e-mail. I was just entering my password when I saw a shimmer out of the corner of my eye. _Not now_, I groaned inwardly. I minimized the screen and turned to face whatever ghost had just showed up.

I glanced quickly at the woman standing next to my bed. The woman there was in her mid twenties, with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Her eyes were framed with angular glasses, and she was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a plain brown tee-shirt.

"What do you want?" I asked rudely. I was still pissed off at my mom, and didn't feel like dealing with a ghost just then. I wanted to read Jesse's e-mail.

She scowled a bit at my tone, but didn't say anything. "You're the mediator?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I'm the mediator. I'm talking to you, am I not?" She ignored me.

"I need you to do something for me. To pass a message on to someone." I yawned. At least she knew what was holding her back. This should be relatively easy.

"Okay. Who and what's the message, and who is it from?" She looked sad for a minute.

"My name is Nicole. It's for a woman named Ángela."

"Is she local? Where does she live?" She sighed.

"She lives in Spain. Outside of Seville." Okay. Maybe not so easy.

I stared at her blankly. "What does a woman 6000 miles away have to do with you?" She sighed again.

"A few months ago, I met a man in San Francisco. His name was Felipe, and he was there on business from Spain. He was a wonderful man, and he just… swept me off my feet."

"Uh huh," I said. Nicole looked happy, remembering what I was sure was a torrid affair, and her tone was reminiscent.

"It went on for a few months. He'd go back to Spain for a week or two at a time every once in a while, but he always returned to San Francisco. To me." Her happiness faded away, and her face turned sad and upset. "But whenever I asked him if I could come with him and visit his family, he refused. It was sort of suspicious, so I did some research, and I found out why he refused to take me—he had a fiancé back there with him."

I straightened my chair from where I had been tilting it. I felt sympathy for Nicole. I mean, it kind of sucks to have a two-timing boyfriend.

"So I confronted him. I told Felipe that he had to break it off with Ángela, his fiancé, and tell her, or I'd tell her myself."

"So what happened?" She looked depressed.

"He strangled me. And then dumped me in the bay, and caught a flight back to Seville a few hours later. They found my body the other day, but don't have any leads. The water washed away all the evidence, or something."

"I'm sorry," I said. "What did you want me to tell Ángela?"

"That she's marrying a cheating murderer. She deserves to know." I nodded.

"Do you have a phone number or a last name or something?" She picked up a pencil and wrote down a name, address, and phone number. "I'll try to call her, or something… but it might be a while."

"It's urgent," she said. "They're getting married in two weeks. She needs to know before then." I nodded. In hearing Nicole's own story, my anger had ebbed away and I did want to help her. "But, do you speak Spanish?"

"No, why?"

"Ángela only speaks Spanish… she doesn't know any English." I closed my eyes and groaned. Then I was struck with inspiration.

"Listen, I know another mediator who speaks Spanish, my boyfriend Jesse. If you can, um, go visit him and tell him everything that you just told me. Oh, and… tell him I say hi." She nodded, and disappeared. I sighed with relief that she'd be getting help.

I went back to my e-mail, but five second later, Nicole returned. This time, she was on the verge of tears. Her eyes were filling up, and her pretty face was screwed up unattractively.

"Nicole, what's wrong?" I asked, perplexed. "Did you find Jesse?" She let out a sob.

"He… he… looks just like my Felipe!" She cried more. If this Felipe guy looks just like Jesse, I couldn't blame her for falling for him. "I can't go to him! I'm sorry!" She clung to a pillow from my bed. I was surprised at this unbridled display of emotion.

"You have to. I can't help you." She was getting a bit angry.

"Why not? Can't you just call him and get what you need to say in Spanish?" One more thing to blame my mom for. Because she took away my phone, a poor, ignorant Spanish girl will marry a man who murdered his mistress, and said mistress will never get eternal rest and peace.

Wonder how that would weigh on her conscience.

"I can't call him… it's a long story, but I can't."

This woman was just a rage of emotions. She got really angry at my vague refusal to help her.

"Why can't you just _call him_? What, did you two have a fight or something? You're too proud to be the one to call? Are your personal problems more important than a dead woman's last wish? And the life of a woman who is about to marry a terrible, terrible man?" I rolled my eyes angrily at this unnecessary personal attack, her thinking that I was selfish and uncaring.

"I _want_ to help, but I can't!" I cried. "Why can't _you_just suck up your emotions and talk to Jesse your self, if you need Ángela to know so badly?"

This was not the right thing to say. Through her tears, she glared at me. "You don't know what I'm going through!" she screamed. And then, with a pop, my computer screen turned black, and the humming stopped.

"What did you do?" I gasped, hurrying over to my last connection to Jesse. I pressed buttons, punched keys on the keyboard, did everything I could think of.

But Nicole's emotional breakdown had fried my computer.

This was the suckiest birthday ever.

Suddenly, the room was silent, and I knew Nicole had left.

Too late, I realized that I could have e-mailed Jesse and he could have given me a translation… and then I could have mailed a letter to Ángela.

I groaned, feeling close to tears myself, and put my head down on the desk.

Even though it was only a little past nine, I was too depressed to think. So I just changed into my pajamas, and climbed into bed.

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Nothing changed over the course of the next week I didn't get a chance to talk to Jesse, because he was on the way to class, or was working. I managed to talk to him for about five minutes during lunch, while he was walking to physics, and let him know the basics about Nicole—and that she had fried my computer.

He did his best to reassure me, and promised that he would keep in touch even if it meant resorting to snail mail. In fact, he said, just before he hung up, he'd write me a letter after class and mail it the next morning.

Even though I was really peeved at Nicole, I wanted to help her. I felt a guilt at not being able to tell Ángela about Felipe. I considered briefly asking the Spanish teacher what the translation was. But then I realized, asking a teacher how you say, "The man you're going to marry is a cheater and a murderer. The woman who he cheated with and killed wants you to know," might raise a few questions I wasn't keen on answering. My inability to help nagged at my brain, along with everything else I wasn't able to do, until it drove me to the brink of insanity.

Which might explain why I spoke up at dinner a week after the Nicole incident, after remaining silent around my family ever since I came back from Jesse's.

Andy was serving grilled salmon. I was eating it unenthusiastically. It was good, of course, but whenever I was around my mom lately, it turned everything sour.

I was spearing an asparagus stalk on my fork when my mother spoke up. "Oh, Andy, did I tell you? I'm starting a new investigative piece tomorrow. My producer gave me the go-ahead to start it this afternoon."

"What's it on?" he asked, the dutiful husband of a journalist.

"The real lives of teenage boys." I sighed, trying to ignore her.

"Helen, do you really want to get into that?" Andy joked. "The minds of teenage boys are not something the light hearted should try to enter."

Brad grunted as he shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth.

"I'm positive," she said. "It is something that needs to be exposed. So many parents are in the dark about what really goes on. Especially the mothers of teenage girls who fall victim to the facades teenagers put up."

I rolled my eyes. The three teenage boys at the table looked bored. Even David. I sympathized with them. Here was my mom, telling their dad how terrible his sons were. Not directly, of course, but it was basically the same thing.

"Even the boys who seem nice are no better than the date-rapists and the ones who are abusive. Coercing young girls to do things they would otherwise wouldn't do… even going as far as deflowering them…"

And that's when my common sense disappeared, when the anger and insanity took over. There was no other explanation for why I opened my mouth just then, except that I could no longer stand hearing her tell me that Jesse and Paul were exactly the same.

"Mom," I said, "Stop it! Stop talking about things you know nothing about! Jesse wasn't the one who 'deflowered' me, and never, ever hits me or pressures me like Paul did. So just lay off and stop talking bullshit about all guys being girlfriend-hitting sex maniacs!"

Even though no one but me was talking, when I stopped the table seemed to have grown eerily silent. No forks scraped the plates, no mouths chewed their food, and five sets of wide eyes were fixed on me.

One set, though, were livid. My mother's eyes were shooting fire at me.

And that's when I realized what I had said.

If I wasn't in trouble then, I sure as hell was then.

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Hmm. Okay, review.

P.S. Special thanks to Stephanie for her help


	6. Chapter 6

"Boys," my mom said slowly, "go to your rooms."

"Why?" Brad asked. "I'm still eating. And it's Suze who's been sleeping around, not me." I actually doubted that, considering how the girls at my school seem to fawn over him. Why, I don't know. Perhaps it's a massive outbreak of blindness.

"Bradley, do as she says," Andy. Jake and David were already slinking up the stairs, shooting back curious looks to me and my mom. Brad followed them, grumbling and swearing under his breath.

When they were gone, my mom spoke again. "Susannah, would you like to say that again?"

I would like to say that I proudly and defiantly defended Jesse, and that I had no fear of my mother whatsoever.

But actually, I was scared shitless.

Still, though, I opened my mouth and, as calmly as I could, stated what I had just said—in politer terms, though. "You don't know what Jesse is really like. You can't make those generalizations that all guys hit girls, and all guys are just after the sex. Because it's not true."

"Not that. The part about how Jesse didn't steal your virginity." God, what was with the stealing business? Even if I was still a virgin when Jesse and I slept together, I'd have _given_ it to him. Gladly. Because he is amazing and I totally want to jump his bones whenever I see him.

"I'm the community bicycle, Mom," I said sarcastically. Oh, I was still terrified. But I was figuring, I already wasn't allowed out of the house. I couldn't see Jesse, or speak to him, and my computer had gotten fried by Nicole. What else could she take away that I really cared about? "Everyone's had a ride." She glared at me.

"Susannah," she said firmly, with acid in her voice. I sighed.

"Why are you bothering asking? You probably have figured it all out. Yeah, I slept with Paul. And then he dumped me and smacked me around a bit. But this was, like, more than a year ago. Totally old news." Andy looked shocked and upset, and my mom's face was slowing matching her shirt—that is, turning a lovely mauve color.

"Go… to… your… room," she said, her whole body swelling up with anger. I was shocked.

"Why? Because I let my ex-boyfriend beat me up? Most mothers would be _upset_ when they find out their daughters were a victim of a _real_ abusive relationship, and not that bullshit you think I have with Jesse."

Andy actually looked a little frightened. My mother was livid.

"You can't talk to me that way!" she practically screamed, her eyes popping out.

"Helen," Andy murmured, "calm down…"

However, she ignored him and continued. "Go to your room!" I laughed humorlessly.

"You're punishing me because I was in an abusive relationship. God, Mom, why the hell do you have to make it so difficult for me to be happy? You're taking away the only person who has made me truly happy since Paul hurt me. I should just _leave_. Anywhere would be better than _here_. At least then I can actually talk to the only person who really seems to loves me."

Suddenly, her fingers closed around my upper arm. Then I was being dragged up the stairs.

"Mom, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, trying to pry myself from her grasp. But soon, we were at the door to my room, which she flung open and pushed me inside.

And then she slammed the door. A moment later, I heard a click, and realized she had locked my bedroom door from the outside.

Cinderella, much?

I was angry beyond belief that she had locked me in my room. I was eighteen years old! And here I was, locked in my room for falling for a guy who seduced me and tricked me and then threw me away.

I pounded on the door for a minute, screaming at her to unlock the door. But I heard nothing in return.

I had said that I wanted to leave. But at the time, it was an empty threat.

But this was the last straw.

I emptied out my book bag, and started shoving clothes in—jeans, some tee-shirts, and the essential socks, underwear, and bras. And all the cash I had in my room—about $50. I wasn't going away permanently—if I was, I would be packing a much bigger bag.

But I wanted to be prepared to last however long I needed to chill out and just be away from my psychotic mom.

I threw on a sweatshirt—my jacket was downstairs—grabbed my backpack, and slowly and quietly opened the window, climbed out onto the roof, and climbed down as much as the tree as I could.

And then I jumped.

I hurried as softly as I could down the driveway, and then once I was a good distance away, I slowed down to a walk again. Suddenly, I realized what I was doing, and anxiety set in.

I was running away from home.

I realize my circumstances were a bit different than the normal teen-runaway situations that plague daytime made-for-TV-movies. I had no intention of become a stripper. I mean, I had a place I was going to go. All I needed was a bus ticket.

And I highly doubt he would turn me back to the streets.

So it wasn't like I was planning to go sleep on a park bench or under a overpass on the highway or anything. I wasn't really putting myself in danger.

After about a twenty minute walk, I arrived at the bus stop. There wasn't a local bus terminal, but I saw upon checking the schedule, a bus should arrive in about fifteen minutes and take me there, which is when I could take a bus to Jesse's city… then catch another bus to his campus.

So I sat on the bench and waited. It was only about quarter of nine, but it was already dark out. I shivered, and pulled my sweatshirt around me tighter. It isn't usually freezing in Carmel in December, not like it was in New York, but it still got really cold after dark.

Only a minute late, a bus pulled up. I hurried on, into the warmth. I paid my fare, and then started looking for a seat.

There were a few late commuters, reading newspapers or talking quietly on their cell phones or fiddling with their Blackberries. No one paid me any attention.

So I sat in the middle, in a seat next to the window. The bus pulled away, and when we crossed the Carmel-by-the-Sea border, I took a deep breath and let it out.

We arrived at the bus terminal in twenty minutes. The next bus to Jesse's city was in forty-five minutes, so I found an Au Bon Pain and got a chocolate filled croissant. All the running away made me hungry, and they just looked so good.

An hour after I boarded the bus, I arrived. The bus terminal actually wasn't that far from the campus—even I recognized some things—so I just walked. It was about 11:30 when I found myself at the entrance of Jesse's apartment building. Someone who lived there was leaving, and he held the door open for me and let me in. Not the brightest kid, but whatever. Maybe he knew Jesse and recognized me and knew I wasn't a psycho ax-murderer or anything.

I found the elevator, and hit the six. The doors closed, and it started bringing me up. When I got to his door, I knocked carefully. A second later, the door opened, and Jesse stood there. He had a pair of reading glasses on, and when he saw me, he gaped.

"Susannah? What… what…" he began, but I threw my arms around him and buried my head in his chest.

"I missed you so much," I said, inhaling the scent of his skin. He hugged be back, but it was obvious he was confused beyond belief.

"Come inside," he said. He took my hand, and pulled me through the threshold and shut the door behind him. I took off my backpack and put it on the floor, and took off the sweatshirt.

I saw that Jesse had probably been studying. The desk chair was pulled out, and there were text books and notebooks spread out across the surface. He had finals that week, I was pretty sure, and I felt guilty for interrupting him.

Jesse sat me down on the couch, and sat down next to me. "Susannah, you know I'm delighted to see you… but what are you doing here? Why aren't you at home, in bed? Don't you have school tomorrow?" I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder.

"I can't deal with my mom anymore, Jesse." He shook his head. He looked angry.

"Susannah, how could you put yourself in danger like that? You're too smart to leave without telling anyone, and traveling alone at night. Thank God you got here all right… I'll drive you home. Just let me get my keys. I can't let you—"

"No, Jesse," I burst out, holding him tighter to keep him from standing up. "Don't make me leave. She'll just lock me in my room again."

"What?" he asked incredulously, his anger was gone. "Lock you in your room?" I nodded sadly.

"She found out about Paul, so she locked me in my room. From the outside." He swore in Spanish. "Let me stay. Just a few days. I promise I won't distract you at all from studying." He shook his head.

"_Querida_, your mere presence is distracting enough." I sort of hoped that meant, "Whenever you're around, all I want to do is ravage you because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known." So I decided to test my theory.

"Will you let me stay?" I asked, rubbing one hand up and down his stomach and chest. "I've just missed you… so much…" I said, leaning over and kissing around the neckline of this tee-shirt… and then going up his neck, and to his ear. "Where's Mark?" I whispered.

"With Jenna," he whispered back hoarsely. "He said if he wasn't back by eleven, I shouldn't count on him being back until morning."

"Well, he's almost forty-five minutes late… I guess that means you… and I… have the apartment all to ourselves tonight." I bit his ear gently. And he finally responded.

He turned my face to his, and kissed me deeply. To feel his lips on mine again was heaven.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Jesse slowly pushed me back against the couch. His hands held my waist, and were slowly creeping up. But then he must have realized that we were still on his roommate's bed, basically, so he stood up, pulled me to my feet, and led me into his bedroom.

I lay down on the bed, and he followed. We started kissing again, getting our bodies back in sync with each other. He peeled off my shirt, and then moved his fingers to my back to get rid of my bra. When he got it off, and tossed it away, he leaned up on his elbow and admired my topless form.

"I've missed you so much," he said, caressing my waist. I smiled.

"Me, or my boobs?" He grinned, moving his eyes upward to my face.

"Both." I laughed and pulled off his shirt, and then dragged his head back down to mine.

We kissed for a while more before his hands went to the waist of my jeans and started unbuttoning and unzipping them. I wiggled myself out of them, and then pulled his own navy blue plaid flannel pants off.

He ran his hands up and down the length of my body, making me shiver. I hooked my leg around his, which made _him_ shudder. In a good way, not a repulsed way. Even though I had apparently just given him the Goosebumps, beads of moisture appeared on his forehead.

As he pushed himself into me, I cupped his face in my hands and held it as I kissed him. God, I loved him so much. And not just because he made me feel incredible.

The intense pleasure he was giving me made me moan and call his name hoarsely. It grew and grew, until it exploded in me, leaving me breathless and floating.

As we both recovered, I lay my head on Jesse's chest, staring at the white, slightly cracked, ceiling. His arms came around me, and his fingers started slowly tracing themselves up and down my stomach. It instantly gave me the chills.

"It was driving me crazy, not knowing when I'd be able to see you again," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Even though I'm still mad that you left without telling anyone—and I have more to say to you on the matter tomorrow— you don't know how happy I was to see you."

I rolled over so my chest was pressed against his. His arms wrapped around me, and I smiled, and then kissed him deeply. When I broke off to breathe, I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I love you so much," I said. His hands stroked my back.

"I know, _Querida_. I love you too." We were silent for a moment, until he spoke again. "I think we both know you can't stay here forever." I sighed, and buried my head in his chest. "Of course you can stay for a few days… but you have to go back eventually." He kissed my forehead. "But _Querida_, I promise, no matter how much your mother tries, you'll never get rid of me." And then he started tickling me. I shrieked and writhed as he rolled over and pinned me to the bed.

"Jesse!" I giggled, and then I thought I heard a creak. "Did you hear that?" He nuzzled my neck as he continued to tickle my waist—and I continued to squirm.

"Stop trying to distract me," he laughed into my neck. I shrieked with laughter again.

"Jesse, stop it," I laughed. This time, however, he did. I guess all of my squirming and wiggling beneath him had excited him, if the bulge against my thigh said anything.

He leaned down and kissed me deeply, and I arched my back and murmured his name against his lips.

And then I heard a quiet click, and light filled the room. Startled, Jesse immediately and simultaneously rolled off of me and pulled the sheet up to make sure I was covered from whoever it was who was wandering into Jesse's room. Mark, I presumed, who just got home late and was wondering what all the screaming was.

However, when I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest, I realized it was far, far worse than Jesse's roommate.

My mother stood there, her mouth wide open in shock and her eyes wide and angry.

"Mom, what are you doing here? How did you know where I was?" I asked, panicked. She shut her mouth, and then opened it again to speak.

"You aren't entirely unpredictable, Susannah. And I think I should be asking _you_ what you're doing here, when I had sent you to your room and expressly forbidden you to see him. Yet here you are, in _bed_ with him. Get dressed, now. I'm taking you home this instant. We will discuss your punishment when we get home."

"No, Mom, I'm not coming home!" I nearly shouted. Jesse laid a hand on my arm and murmured my name, trying to calm me down, but I ignored him. "I can't stand living with you! You won't listen to me or trust me at all! I'm an adult now, Mom, you have to let me make my own decisions. You can't just lock me in my room every time I do something you don't approve of."

"I can do what I want! I'm your mother. Now get out of bed and get dressed."

"No!" I repeated. Jesse was remaining silent, obviously not wanted to entangle himself in this. I couldn't blame him.

"Stop throwing yourself at him! You're acting like a common tramp! You broke my heart when you told me you've slept with more than one man. I thought I raised you to be better than that. And you're still sleeping with him."

"What, so I'm some dirty slut just because Jesse and I love each other?" My mom snorted.

"Love? Please. Guys this age don't love anyone, they just pretend to so they have an outlet for their hormones." I looked at my mother in shock. Had she lost her mind? She was never like this. Something was up with her, but I didn't know what.

Jesse, who had smoothly grabbed his boxers from the floor and slipped them on under the blanket, sat up straighter. "Mrs. Ackerman, believe me when I say that I love your daughter very much. I would never, ever do anything to hurt her." I smiled at Jesse, but my mom ignored him.

"Get dressed now, Suze. I'm taking you home."

"No, Mom. Why can't you trust me? I want to be with Jesse. At least until you stop being so psychotic." She glared at me.

"Fine. Stay here. But then don't bother coming back." Before I knew what was happening, she had slammed the bedroom door, and a second later I heard the entrance to the apartment slam too.

Jesse and I stared at each other in shock, before I buried my face in his chest and burst into tears.

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Whatever is making Mrs. Ackerman so crazy? Review, and you'll find out.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up the next morning, after crying myself to sleep, confused and lost. I felt my head being lifted and reset on a pillow. I opened my eyes, and murmured something.

"I'm sorry to wake you, _Querida_. I have class in half an hour," Jesse whispered. It was a few minutes before ten. I nodded, snuggling into the pillow again, hoping sleep would take away the hurt I was feeling from my argument the previous night.

I heard water running a few moments later, and Jesse came back in just before he left and kissed me on the forehead. "I'll be back this afternoon, okay Susannah?" I nodded.

"Do you have a final?" I asked groggily. He nodded and smoothed my hair. "Good luck. Not that you need it." He smiled, and squeezed my hand.

"Thank you, _Querida_." And then he left.

About forty-five minutes later, I climbed out of bed and pulled on Jesse's robe, like I usually did. I never did end up getting dressed last night after my mom barged in. It was sort of a testament to how close Jesse and I were that I could cry myself to sleep completely naked and be okay with that when I woke up.

I was still upset about what my mom had said. I didn't understand it. She had kicked me out of the house. She'd probably slam the door in my face if I tried to return. Of course I wasn't happy with my mom. She was crazy.

But that didn't mean I wasn't upset about being kicked out of the house.

I went into the kitchen, where Mark sat, drinking some coffee. He saw me, and choked. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he recovered. He must have come home from Jenna's apartment after Jesse had left. I'm sure Jesse would have explained what was going on if he was here.

"My mom kicked me out of my house." That sounded slightly more reasonable and mature than "I ran away." He raised his eyebrows.

"What, do you do drugs or something?" I rolled my eyes, and stuck a mug of water in the microwave. This being a guy's apartment, they didn't have a kettle. So I had to settle for microwaving my water for tea.

"No. It's because I want to be with Jesse." His eyes bugged.

"Your mom kicked you out because you're dating de Silva?" He laughed. "He is every parents' dream. A goddamn saint. Who wouldn't be okay with him dating their daughter?" I sat down, having stuck a tea bag (left over from my weekend trip) in my mug of hot water to steep.

"Yea, well, tell my mom that," I muttered, stirring sugar into the mug. Mark shook his head and stood up.

"I have class, and then a study group meeting. I'll be back late afternoon. If Jenna calls, can you just let her know? My cell phone's battery died, so she might try here." I nodded, and he left.

I took a shower and got dressed, before wondering what the hell I was going to do with myself to keep my mind off my parental issues. But then Nicole showed up.

"What?" I asked rudely. I felt for the girl, but come on. She still broke my computer. Not to mention the bad mood I was in.

"Have you told Angela yet?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Last night was the first chance I got to talk to Jesse for, like, two weeks. So chill, I'll talk to him about calling her tonight." She sighed.

"Fine." Then she paused. "Why are you so upset?" I raised my glance to her face and raised my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"You're finally with your beloved Jesse, but you're still sad. I can see it." I sighed. I totally didn't need a ghost psychoanalyzing me.

"My mom and I haven't been getting along." She nodded sagely.

"I saw you two fighting at your house last night."

"She's psycho," I said. "She's going crazy. I don't know what the hell is up with her." Nicole shook her head.

"You shouldn't give her such a hard time," she told me. I raised my eyebrows incredulously.

"What are you, the Dr. Phil of the Afterlife?" I asked. She ignored me, save giving me a dirty look.

"You don't know everything that's going on. Your mother is doing what she feels is best. She isn't telling you everything, you know." Now I was confused.

"What do you mean?" She shook her head.

"I have heard things about your mother." I gaped.

"There are ghosts running around talking about my mom?" I asked. She ignored me.

"Just… give her a break. She'll come around. She'll tell you everything eventually." And then she dematerialized.

Well, that was weird.

I was thinking about what she said, when I spotted Jesse's notes and books still open on the desk, and I suddenly felt a stone of guilt drop in my stomach. I had totally interrupted his studying.

He didn't seem to mind, but I still felt bad. I mean, if he failed, I would totally take all the blame. Not that I expected him to fail, because even without studying he always did well in high school.

Still, I realized what he was doing for me—taking me in and housing me in the middle of his busiest and most stressful week. So I decided to do something nice for him.

I took $15 of the $35 I had left, and left the apartment. I wandered around a bit before I found a grocery store, and bought the chocolate chip cookie ingredients people don't usually have around their house.

Then I went back to the apartment, and baked cookies. Jesse has always loved my chocolate chip cookies—or, at least, he humors me and eats them and tells me they're good. I bought a sandwich, too, and went home and ate lunch before starting on the cookies.

Jesse returned from his test just as I was finishing up cleaning the cookie sheet. I heard the door open, and him call out, "Susannah?" I wiped my hands on a towel, and went into the living room. I greeted him with a kiss, and then sat him down on the couch.

"Open your mouth and close your eyes," I said. He looked at me dubiously before obeying. Then I grabbed a cookie—still slightly warm and soft—from the kitchen, went over to Jesse and sat on his lap, and broke off a piece and stuck it in his mouth. He grinned, and opened his eyes upon swallowing.

Then he took the rest of the cookie and ate it.

"How was your test?" He shrugged.

"Okay. I think I messed up on one of the essays, but the rest was fine." I hugged him.

"I'm sorry for bursting in while you were studying," I said into his shoulder. He hugged me back.

"It's fine, _Querida_. I was almost done anyway." I knew he was lying to make me feel better, and that he would've been up another two hours studying at least, but I appreciated it all the same. "So, you baked cookies?" I nodded.

Then we went into the kitchen, and enjoyed a very long conversation over cookies and milk.

I told Jesse all about Nicole, and he promise to call Angela. However, just as he began dialing the number she had wrote down, he hung up again.

"It's 9 hours later there. Only about 5:30 in the morning." We decided to call the following morning.

He was also perplexed about her enigmatic advice. He said he'd think about it, but in truth, he barely had time to think about anything other than school.

He had four other finals that week, and he barely had time to breathe, let alone contemplate the mysterious message from a ghost about his girlfriend's mother. Mark was the same—busy and stressed out. I wound up playing Mother to them—while they studied and typed furiously, I made them dinner, straightened up their apartment, and did the dishes.

Jesse was regretful that he couldn't spend more time with me, but I shrugged it off. I knew how important school was, and how much he cared about his grades.

Speaking of which…

I had called Father Dominic the first day I was there, before I made the cookies. He was really mad at me when I told him I had run away, but forgave me eventually, though grudgingly. He also said he'd do his best to convince Sister Ernestine that my absences were excused, so I could graduate that spring. I think he told her I was gone for health reasons. This wasn't entirely false; I had left for the sake of my mental well-being. Also convenient was that Christmas break started soon, so I only missed about 5 days of school.

I had taken the bus back to Carmel one day, gotten some homework and checked in with Father Dominic, and snuck into the house (my mom was at work) and got more clothes and bummed $30 off Brad. I'd pay him back, I reasoned. Eventually.

Father Dominic tried to convince me to stay in the rectory. He told me Andy was doing his best to work on my mom, but she was still adamant at not seeing me or letting me live there again. I refused, though. Even though Jesse was too busy with finals to pay much attention to me, I knew that they would end eventually… and I was already plotting ideas on how to convince Mark to disappear for a few nights.

Because, sadly, for most of Jesse's finals week, I'd fallen asleep before him. We managed to sneak in a few make-out sessions here and there, when he needed a break, and we spent time together when I was helping him study, but after the first night he held off on staying up late with me.

But that also might have been because Mark was there.

Between the homework I had picked up, taking care of two college boys, and the few opportunities to be with Jesse, I had managed not to think about my mom. But when I did think about it, I usually ended up crying. I kept that from Jesse, though. He didn't need the added stress of an emotional girlfriend.

But I loved my mom. Of course I did. I thought she was crazy and I was really mad at her, despite Nicole's warning to go easy on her, but I still loved her. But she still refused to listen to me and kicked me out of the house. That hurts.

I was stretched out on the bed when Jesse came home from his last test. I was reading from a book about Lyndon B. Johnson so I could make an opinion whether he was a good or bad president for a history paper.

"Susannah?" I heard Jesse call as he came into the apartment. I stood up as he came into the room, and was surprised when he promptly kissed me full on the lips.

"All done?" I asked when he released me. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," he said. "I'm done until January." I smiled, and hugged him. Then he sobered a bit. "I'm so sorry, _Querida_."

"What for?" I asked, sitting back down on the bed. He sat down next to me.

"Ignoring you. You came to me for help, and I completely overlooked you." I brushed his apologizes aside.

"Jesse, you've been helpful enough by just putting up with me the past few days. But," I added, when he opened his mouth, "if you insist on being sorry, you can make it up to me." Jesse caught my meaning, and leaned down to me and kissed me again, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me down to the bed.

Even though we didn't get much farther than just making out before we heard Mark come home with Jenna, it was still nice to be back with Jesse and have him focused entirely on me. Jesse helped me off the bed, and then I wiped my lip gloss off his mouth.

After some friendly teasing about what we were doing in the bedroom with the door closed, Jenna proposed the four of us going out to eat and celebrate. Jesse went to get a jacket, and I went into the bathroom for a second to reapply my lip gloss (my earlier coat having been smeared all over Jesse) and make sure my nose wasn't shiny.

I heard the door open, and a new voice join Jesse's, Mark's, and Jenna's, but I couldn't place it. Until I left the bathroom and went back with the others.

It was Jesse's mom. No wonder he suddenly looked so tense.

She was talking about something, I don't know what—it was too far in the conversation to figure it out—when she noticed me, coming out of the bathroom. She stopped her sentence short, and paused.

"What is she doing here?" she asked Jesse. Her tone was cold and accusing, a complete switch from the kind and relaxed way she had just been speaking.

I smiled weakly. "Hello, Mrs. De Silva," I said nervously, anxiously straightening my shirt.

As usual, she ignored me. This time, when she questioned Jesse, she spoke in Spanish. Jenna, who knew Spanish also from taking it in high school and college, suddenly looked really anxious and sympathetic toward me when she heard what Mrs. De Silva was saying.

Jesse's mouth tightened into a firm line when she was done speaking, and turned toward the rest of us. "You go ahead. I'll meet you there." Mark was handing me my coat when she spoke up again.

"No. I would like to have a word with Susannah." Jenna shot me a pitying look, took Mark's hand, and led him out of the apartment.

"Now, would either of you like to explain why you're here?" she asked. Her eyes were shooting fire. Jesse and I glanced at each other. I decided to be brave, and spoke up.

"My mother and I… haven't been seeing eye-to-eye on certain things, and I thought it would be best for us to take a break and cool off. Jesse was kind enough to let me crash here," I said, choosing my words carefully. I didn't want to say, 'My mom's crazy so I ran away and have been staying at your son's house since. Oh yea, in his bed.'

She turned to Jesse. "Why haven't you mentioned this, Hector?" Whoa. Hector. She was pissed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he actually spoke.

"I've been so busy with finals… and Susannah has just been laying low… it must have slipped my mind."

"You _forgot_ your girlfriend was staying over at your apartment." Ouch. Mrs. De Silva wasn't stupid.

And that sucked. It was so much easier to pull something over on an idiot.

Jesse shrugged as nonchalantly as was possible. "Really, I hardly know she's here… she spends almost all of her time doing homework, and by the time I go to bed, she's already asleep." She was almost opening her mouth to say something, when Jesse made a quick amendment. "On the floor." She raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"We, uh, thought it would be best for me to sleep on the floor," I said, taking her attention away from Jesse. I knew it was killing him to lie to her. It was much easier for me, as I didn't love her. "Jesse lent me a pillow and a few blankets, and I just curl up in the living room."

She gave me a stony glare, and then turned her attention back to Jesse, and spoke to him in rapid-fire Spanish. I didn't catch a word, but I knew it was bad, because Jesse's face slowly paled throughout the whole thing. When she was done, she turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Mother!" Jesse called. "Mother, I have something I want—"

But she was gone.

Jesse looked shaken up. He sat down on the couch and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, like he was tired and stressed out. I sat down next to him.

"What did she say?" I asked gently, and I started rubbing his back with one hand. He didn't answer me.

"Let's go, they're waiting," Jesse said. He started to stand up, but I pulled him back down.

"Jesse, what did she say?" I asked again, still gently but with more force. He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

"Jesse." I said. Just his name. He took a deep breath.

"She told me… that until we were finished, I am no longer her son. She doesn't want to speak to me or see my face until we've broken up." He looked crushed.

"Oh, Jesse," I said, and I pulled him into my arms. I knew Jesse loved his mom. I hated having to make him choose. I mean, I had basically chosen him over my mom… but not on purpose. She didn't give me that choice.

But Jesse… he had to choose. Between me and his mom. His girlfriend and his family. Did I really expect him to chose me over them? The thought made my throat start to close up and my nose start to hurt.

We just held each other, until I spoke up again, this time with difficulty. "Jesse… if you chose your mother over me… I'll try to understand." Jesse lifted his head, and looked at me, shocked. "I mean, it would suck… but I would try to accept it."

"_Querida_, I am making no such decisions. She's not getting rid of you that easily." I gave him a watery smile, and squeezed him. "I'll have to talk to her. Don't worry, _Querida_, I would never, ever make that sort of decision. I love you both. Too much to choose."

"Will she meet with you?" I asked. "I mean… didn't she say she wouldn't speak to you or see you?" Jesse grimaced.

"I'll try to think of something," he said. "But don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"Why can't people just let us be happy?" I asked. He sighed.

"I don't know, Susannah. But come on. Let's go find Mark and Jenna, and get our minds off this." He helped me up off the couch, put my coat on me, and led me out the door.

Well, that sucks. Review, please.

Oh, yes. I am going to be attending World Youth Day in a few weeks (I am leaving in 5 days). I don't know if I will get the chance to update before I leave, but I assure you, I will do my best to write some while I'm in Europe. However, if I get lots of nice reviews, I will have more of an incentive to write another chapter before I go. So review.


	8. Chapter 8

Jesse and I went to celebrate with Mark and Jenna, but neither of us were in the mood to party. We put on happy faces and pretended to be having fun, but really, Jesse and I were stressed out—him, over finals (he suddenly realized he didn't know how he did on the way over, and convinced himself that he failed them all and would be kicked out of school) and his mom, and me, over his mom and my mom.

Jenna and Mark were about to go find a club or a party or someplace to go dance and have fun, but neither Jesse nor I were up to that, so we just went home. Even though it was still only, like, 8:30, I changed into my pajamas (the ones Jesse thought were inappropriate for the winter). I was putting some water in a mug and sticking it in the microwave when I noticed Jesse was rolling his shoulders.

"You okay?" I asked, hitting the START button.

"I'm just… tense. This hasn't been the most relaxing week for me, if you couldn't tell," he said wryly. He went into the bedroom, and took off his shirt and started rummaging in his drawer for his pajama pants.

Ignoring the three beeps of the microwave, I went into the bedroom, where Jesse was in his boxers. Before he could pull on his plaid flannel pants, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed.

"Let me help you relax," I said. "Lay down, let me help." He did so, obligingly, resting his head on his arms on a pillow. "I promise, when I'm done, you'll be completely relaxed and any stiffness and tenseness will be gone."

Kneeling over him, I started rubbing his neck, relaxing the tense muscles with my fingers. Jesse made a tiny moan of approval, so I kept going.

I slowly went from his shoulders, to his upper back, and lower and lower until a good half hour later, I was at the waistline of his shorts. Jesse looked very relaxed and content. His eyes were closed, and for a second I wondered if he had fallen asleep.

Feeling slightly promiscuous, I quietly said, "Hey, Jesse, roll over." Proving that he wasn't asleep, he did.

I started massaging his chest gently with my fingers, even though this wasn't exactly an orthodox massage area. Whatever.

I continued down, and when I got to his boxers, I slipped my hands inside and started massaging _there_, too. Jesse's eyes flew open.

"Susannah, what…" he began, but couldn't continue.

"Well, right here seems sort of stiff too," I said, grinning. "And I made a promise..."

"Susannah," he said in a throaty voice, "what you're doing… won't make it less stiff." I grinned wickedly.

"Do you want me to stop, then?" I asked, expecting him to say 'no.' After about a minute, he finally spoke.

"Yes." Oh. I reluctantly removed my hands from under his shorts, feeling embarrassed, but then Jesse spoke again, with a slight pant. "It isn't fair that I'm the one getting a massage, when I'm sure you're just as tense as I am." He sat up, and to make things, you know, easier, I took off my shirt. Then, after checking me out quickly, he gently pushed me down on the bed so I was laying on my stomach like he had been.

His fingers were magic. They relaxed me so completely. So much so, in face, that for the first second or two, I didn't realize it when he left my back and started using his fingers to coax my leg muscles out of their knots.

He started with my calves, working up from near my ankles to my knees, and then up past them. His fingers caressed and slid up my thighs… and then his fingers moved to my inner legs. Chills ran through my body.

I let a small moan escape. I heard Jesse chuckled—though it sounded slightly strained, like he was trying to hold something in as well.

"Are you enjoying this?" he asked in a whisper into my ear.

"Very much," I mumbled into the pillow. My eyes were closed, and my fingers were gripping Jesse's sheets. I rolled over, giving Jesse a good view of my boobs. "You know, my chest is awfully sore," I said. "It's so _tense_…"

Jesse just smiled slightly, before doing exactly what I was asking him to do. His fingers circled my breasts, and caressed them. I arched my back from pleasure, sticking them out a bit, and moaned, "Oh, Jesse…"

This had the desired reaction. Jesse immediately leaned in and captured my lips with his own, kissing me feverishly. I see Jesse never did fully recover from the last bit of my massage.

He crawled on top of me, his hands leaving my chest to pull down my shorts. I giggled and hugged his head into me when he murmured something _very_ complimentary into my neck. I pulled off his pants, and hooked one leg around him, and then he…

Well, I'm sure you know by now.

After we finished the third time around, I lay, too exhausted to do anything but breathe, next to Jesse. I moved my head to his shoulder, and brought my arm to his chest, where I traced my fingers randomly.

I guess I fell asleep, because when I opened my eyes, light was streaming through the slits in the blinds. Jesse was waking up too, because when I moved my head off his chest, his arms tightened around me, and his eyes flickered open.

"Mmm… good morning, _querida_," he said, his voice hoarse with sleepiness.

"'Morning," I said, and stretched. I leaned up and kissed him quickly, and then again.

After a few minutes of snuggling, Jesse asked, "How about some breakfast?"

We climbed out of bed and put some clothes on, and then Jesse made some toast (slightly burned, but still good) and scrambled eggs.

I took the dishes when we were done, and started washing them. Jesse came up behind me and kissed me a few times on my neck, before saying, "I'm going to try to call my mom… maybe she's cooled down." He squeezed my hips gently with his hands, before letting go and reaching for the phone on the wall.

"Hola, Mother," he said brightly. "It's Jesse. Listen, I know you said that…hello? Hello? Mother, are you there?" I turned around, and saw him click the off button, a devastated look on his face. He looked up at me, and I gave him a concerned look. "She hung up on me."

I went over and sat down next to him, putting my hand on his arm comfortingly. "I'm sure she'll calm down… sometimes it takes a few days," I said, trying to reassure him. He looked so upset, it was killing me.

"I just… I thought she wasn't serious. That she said it in the heat of the moment," he said. He sounded lost. "I didn't think… she'd actually refuse to talk to me."

Anger boiled up in me. Jesse looked so upset that his mother had hung up on him. All of the confusion and worry he had last night that I had tried to take away came charging back, and it was knocking him over.

"I… I'm just going to go return some books to the library," Jesse said tonelessly. "I'll be back in a little while." Jesse stood, disappeared into the room briefly and returned wearing acceptable clothes to wear in public, grabbed a pile of books, and left.

This had to stop. Our parents were being ridiculous. And it really was tearing Jesse and I up.

I mean, yea, I haven't talked about it a whole lot, but I _was_ still really upset about what my mom had said. I was just trying to keep it inside, and not be one of thos annoying weepy people who just sit there and mope.

But just because I wasn't crying and moaning about how my mom hates me doesn't mean it doesn't _hurt_. Nothing hurt more than this.

I needed to do something. Me being upset was one thing, but it was worse to see Jesse the same way. I hated Jesse being sad. So as soon as Jesse left, I grabbed the phone and hit "redial."

"Hello?" It was an older woman's voice, and I figured it was Mrs. De Silva.

"Hi, Mrs. De Silva, this is Suze Simon, Jesse's girlfriend. Don't hang up. I want to talk to you. Can you meet me at Salinas Diner in half an hour? It's right near Jesse's apartment." I hung up, before she could get a word in edgewise.

I didn't know how long Jesse would be gone, so I left a note, vaguely telling him that I was out and would be back soon. I didn't even know if she was going to come. Knowing her, I doubt it. But I had to try.

I changed into the most demure outfit I had packed (pink striped button down, my highest-rising jeans—although that still wasn't exactly waist-high), grabbed my purse, and headed down to the diner where I had gone with Jesse and his friends what was almost a month ago.

I was brought to a table, and I ordered a tea and sat nervously, waiting for her to show up—if she showed up. For all I knew, she had hung up disgustedly as soon as I was done talking and went to make tortillas or something.

Forty-five minutes had past from the time I had made the call, and I was beginning to doubt she'd show up. Not that I had much faith in her to begin with, but I was about to ask the waitress for my check and leave when I saw the door open in one of the mirrors on the wall, and the petite frame of Jesse's mother appeared.

I sat up straighter, and waved to indicate where I was. I felt an odd relief when she sat down across from me. She was annoyed, her lips were pressed in a firm line, and she looked like she was so completely disinterested in what I had to say, like I was an ant she was about to step on who was pleading for mercy.

But she had come. And that was what I had asked her to do.

"Thanks for coming," I said as a waitress approached to take her order.

"What did you want?" she asked, after ordering coffee.

"I need to talk to you about what you're doing to your son," I said bravely. I twisted my hands in my lap, but I tried my best to appear calm and rational. Internally, though, I was sweating buckets.

What if I made things worse? What if she _was_ just still cooling down, but I made her feelings towards Jesse permanent? I would never, ever forgive myself.

"How a mother deals with her child's misbehavior is none of your business," she said stiffly as she stirred skim milk and half a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee.

"It is when that _child_ is the man I'm in love with," I said.

I felt like fainting, or running away, or hiding under the table.

But knowing that I might, just might, make things better for Jesse kept me glued to my seat.

She sniffed.

"Please listen to me. Jesse is really hurt by the stuff you said to him, and I hate seeing him like this," I pleaded. She glared at me over her mug.

"Jesse wouldn't have to worry about that if he just broke up with you," she said bluntly. "He's making his decision. If he wants you over his family, then I guess I've raised him wrong. If he chooses you, he deserves you." Ouch. That was harsh. But I pressed on.

"Jesse isn't making any decisions," I told her. "He loves both of us. You need to accept that there's another woman in his life now," I said. She snorted.

"Woman? You're just a girl." I took a deep breath.

"I may be young, but I love Jesse, and he loves me. And you. And he's not choosing between us. I'm okay with that. You need to be, too."

"If it were almost any other girl," she said scathingly, "I would accept it. It's not that he is in love, it is who he is in love with." I sighed.

"Can't you just trust his judgment? He's your son. He's twenty years old—he's old enough to make his own decisions. You raised an absolutely incredible and intelligent man. Shouldn't you be able to trust in the instincts you gave him?"

"You aren't right for him."

"Because I'm not Hispanic?" I asked frankly. She didn't deny it. "Listen, Mrs. De Silva. I know I'm not Mexican like you guys. I know I was never instilled with a second language and all of that culture as a child. I was raised without a religion, learning just English with no father for the rest of my life. But I didn't have _any_ control over that. No one does. How can you say that two people can't be together because of a background neither of them had any choice in?" She looked at me with an unreadable expression on her face. "Just because I don't speak Spanish and I've never had paya before doesn't mean I'm not capable of loving and being with Jesse."

"Paella," she corrected, but it wasn't hostile. Just… resigned.

"Right," I said. "Listen. I'm not asking you to like me. All I want is for Jesse to be happy. And he won't be happy unless you let him back into your life." She looked away for a moment.

"You love him?" she asked.

"With all my heart." I felt a bit weird admitting this to his mom, but I pushed that aside. She sighed.

"I do not like it. But… he is an adult now." She sighed, like it was painful for her to admit it. "He can make his own decisions." I beamed, and she shot me a glare. "I still do not approve. But I guess I can accept."

"Thank you," I said, happiness coursing through my body. "That's all I ever wanted."

She sniffed again, and finished her coffee. I finished my tea, and paid for both.

"Would you like to come back to the apartment?" I asked. "Jesse would love to see you." She picked up her bag and grudgingly followed me.

I played Attentive Hostess, and managed to find a slice of banana bread that I had made a few days earlier, and gave it to her while we waited for Jesse to come back. She ate it with some fervor.

"That Mark boy must be a fairly talented cook; this isn't bad," she commented, almost to herself. I hid a grin as I busied myself in getting glasses of water.

"I made it, actually," I said, and her eyes widened slightly.

We didn't have to wait long for Jesse to come back. About ten minutes later, the door opened. "Susannah," Jesse called, "I'm back." He came into the kitchen, and stopped dead.

"Mother… Susannah…" he was at a loss for words. I didn't blame him. To his knowledge, here was his mother, who had disowned him, sitting at his kitchen table eating banana bread with the girl who she had disowned him for. "What's going on?"

"She and I had a little chat," Mrs. De silva said. Jesse looked shocked. He sat down with us.

"Chat?" She took Jesse's hand and patted it in a way mothers did.

She didn't say much to Jesse, but the fact that she was talking to him was enough for him. The funk he was in lifted right away, and he was happy again.

And seeing him happy meant the world to me.

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Okay, I don't know how good that was, but did it quench your need for an update before I left? I hope so. I totally didn't edit it, though, so I hope there aren't any grievous errors.

Reviewing is cool.

Do it. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Of courseI apologize for the extensive wait (it's been more than two months! How crazy is that?), but I was in Europe (lots of fun) and then I had to get back and do my mountains of homework and school and my National Honor Society application, etc. I do think this will only have 1 or 2 more chapters. I can't promise a super-fast update, but I'll do my best!

And now for chapter eight.

PS- I changed something—back in chapter 6, Suze told her mom that Paul had been physically abusive—pretend that didn't happen. Okay? Thanks.

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As Jesse said goodbye to his mother, I settled on the couch, very pleased with myself and my good deed of the day. I heard the lock click, and Jesse turned around and looked at me, awestruck.

"Susannah… how did you… what did you do?" he asked, sitting next to me on the couch. I took one of his hands in my own and splayed the fingers and played with it.

"You were so upset," I explained. "I hated it. So I called her, and we had a little chat… she still hates me," I assured him," but she's going to put up with the fact that we're together." Jesse looked so happy—the whole stunt was totally worth it just to see him so overjoyed.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Jesse asked.

"Not since this morning," I grinned. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. We remained like this for a few moments, until we needed a little thing called oxygen.

"I love you," Jesse said. "And thank you."

"Anything for you, darling," I said, and patted his cheek.

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The next afternoon Jesse asked me to go out grocery shopping. Mark was, as usual, out—he did come back for the night, but left the next morning—and Jesse vaguely said he had something to do. I hoped this might have something to do with Christmas in a few days, so I took the money and list he gave me (the list, as it had been made by a guy, left out several essentials that I added on.)

I got all the way downstairs and around the corner before realizing I had set the money down on the counter while I had revised the shopping list. I groaned, turned around, and trudged back to the building, and rode the elevator back up.

I opened the door, and was about to call out to Jesse to let him know it was just me, when I heard his muffled voice from inside the bedroom.

Suspicious, I glanced at the phone and realized it was off the hook. Employing a trick I had learned the other day, I pressed my ear against the small speaker on the base of the phone (the actual cordless phone was in Jesse's hands).

For some reason, if you listen carefully to the speaker, you can hear the conversation of the person who is on the phone. I never felt the need to eavesdrop on Jesse before, but for some reason, something told me to listen.

"Stop bothering me," a woman's voice said rudely. "Why don't you and Suze just go back to bed? That's all you two care about, isn't it?" Shocked, I realized it was my mother. I knew there was a reason I wanted to eavesdrop.

Jesse's voice sounded affronted. "Mrs. Ackerman, please. You have the wrong impression on our relationship. That is why I want to speak to you, to set things straight. Listen, I love Susannah, and she loves me. But Susannah loves you, and I know that you love her--"

"You don't know anything about me," she snarled. My mouth fell open in shock. Yea, my mom could be a bitch to _me_, I'm her daughter. But the innocent, do-gooding boyfriend?

Okay, considering the last time she saw us we were both naked and in bed, maybe innocent isn't the greatest word.

She continued speaking. "And you don't know what love is. Neither of you do. You're just teenagers overcome with hormones."

Jesse sounded exasperated as he tried to reason with her. "You have to understand, Mrs. Ackerman. I love Susannah, and I would never do anything to hurt her. I want only the best for her." She snorted, and muttered something in reply, but I couldn't hear it. "It's true," he urged. "I know we're young, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your daughter; I do, deeply." This all was sending warm flushes to my face. Hearing him tell me that he loved me, and tell my mother that he loved me were two different things; telling my mom took guts. It wasn't something you'd do if it wasn't absolutely true.

"All men are the same," she said cynically. "You'll dump Suze to the side of the road as soon as you get tired of her." Hey, thanks, Mom. "You think you love her now, but please, say that to me when some prettier girl is available and the conquest of Suze has worn off." Well, that certainly took away my warm-fuzzies.

"Mrs. Ackerman!" Jesse said. He sounded… affronted. Insulted. "You say I do not know you, but yet you claim to know how I feel. I will admit, some men will do that to a girl," he said, and added in with a mutter, "like that _bastardo_ Paul." Damn straight. "But I have only the best intentions for Susannah. All I want is to one day make her my wife."

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

WHOA.

I choked on my saliva. Wife? WIFE?

Like, he wants to MARRY ME?

The biggest, silliest grin broke out on my face. I didn't even hear my mom's startled, shocked snarl of a reply. I did hear her slam the phone down, though.

I managed to control my facial expressions before Jesse emerged from the bedroom, looking tired and worn. He saw me, and froze.

"_Querida_, what are you doing here?" he asked. "Didn't you go shopping?"

"I forgot the money," I said. "I came back." I could see the gears working in his head, thinking back on the conversation.

"Did you…er… hear the conversation?" he asked with a feigned casualness. I nodded. He looked apprehensive.

"Is it true?" I asked, my heart thudding. I didn't need to clarify. He knew what I was talking about. Jesse's anxiousness intensified.

"Er, well…" he hesitated. "Susannah, I…um…" My heart pounded faster.

Did his hesitation mean it wasn't true? I didn't doubt that he loved me; but maybe he really _didn't_ have plans for the future.

Before I overheard him, this wouldn't have bothered me. But now that I heard the word "wife" from his mouth referring to me, the thought was like a stab to the heart.

"Well, Susannah, I didn't mean… you're only 18… we're too young…I don't want to move to fast. But Susannah, I want to be with you forever." He opened his mouth to continue apologizing, but was startled to find his words muffled by, well, my lips.

He was startled at first, but then wrapped his arms around me, kissing me back.

We stood there, just holding each other and kissing each other for a while, but then I found myself leaning back against a wall and pulling Jesse against me even closer. He certainly enjoyed this, and his knee found its way between mine.

I slipped my hands underneath his shirt and I tugged it off, finding as much pleasure in shirtless Jesse as I always did. I ran my fingers up his smooth muscles and through the dusting of chest hair, enjoying the feel immensely.

Jesse obviously did too, because suddenly I felt his hands on my butt, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me from the living room into the bedroom.

He laid me down on the bed, and climbed over me, kissing my neck and undoing the buttons of my jeans. He helped me wriggle out of them, and then tossed them from the bed.

As he set to work underneath my shirt, the grocery list lay forgotten inside my pocket on the jeans lying on the floor.

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Mrs. Jesse de Silva… Susannah de Silva… Jesse and Suze de Silva… Okay, it wasn't very feminist of me, but I couldn't help these thoughts from streaming through my brain as Jesse and I lay under his comforter, my head on his chest and our hands holding each other loosely. 

Yea, I was still upset about my mom. Duh. But Jesse wanted to marry me! We were practically engaged!

Okay, so he didn't actually propose or anything… but still. It was making me happy.

But when I glanced up at Jesse's face, he didn't seem to be feeling the same joyousness I was. His face was troubled.

"Jesse, you look pretty unhappy for a guy with a naked girl in bed with him," I said, rolling over so I was looking at him. He smiled, but it disappeared quickly.

"I'm sorry, Susannah… you made things right for me. I just wanted to return the favor, but I failed." I narrowed my eyes.

"Did my mom get to you?" He sighed.

"I want to make you happy… but I couldn't."

"Jesse, shut up," I said. "You make me happier than anyone ever has in my life." He smiled sadly.

"But not as happy as you made me today." I started to protest, but he shushed me with a finger. "I just… I hate that she doesn't believe I love you. I hate that she just pushed away my feelings and told me they were worthless." I felt a bubble of anger in my chest. What right did my mom have to say those things to him? None.

"Jesse," I said, trying to reassure him, "ignore her. She isn't your problem. I'll deal with her. Don't take anything she says to heart, because none of it is true." He too started to say something, but I silenced him with my lips.

And as we continued kissing and shifted our positions, I felt him slowly relax and start focusing on me, and I knew he was no longer thinking about what my mom had said to him.

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The next morning was Christmas Eve. (a/n: I actually lost track of the days. So if you're anal and picked up on what day it SHOULD be, stop paying so much attention.) I woke up, and saw Jesse was still asleep on his stomach, one arm draped loosely across my waist and the other under his head.

I carefully slipped out from under his arm, and crawled out of bed. I showered quickly and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, left a note on my pillow, and slipped out the door.

I needed to confront my mom. Once and for all. This was all seriously getting absolutely ridiculous. I just wanted my mom to accept the fact that I have sex on a pretty regular basis (_very_ regular, since I've been staying with Jesse.) She doesn't need to start giving me sex tips or whatever.

I walked in the chilly, December air to the bus station. I bought a ticket and climbed on the bus that was heading to the terminal right outside of Carmel. There were a few commuters on the bus, the ones not lucky enough to get off on Christmas Eve, with newspapers or cups of coffee.

After I got to the terminal, I found the bus that would take me to Carmel and called Cee Cee up on my cell phone.

"Hey, Cee, can you do me a favor?" I asked.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Can you drive down to the bus stop on Moraga Avenue?" Cee Cee paused.

"Sure. Why?" she asked hesitantly.

"Because I'm on a bus now and I'll be dropped off there in about ten minutes."

"You're coming home? Oh, Suze, that's great! I'll be there." She hung up.

True to her word, when I climbed off the bus, I spotted her family's dark blue Jetta parked on the side of the street. I hurried over, and slid into the passenger's seat.

"Thanks a bunch," I said.

"Did you and your mom finally patch things up?" she asked as she pulled out of the parking spot. I grimaced.

"No. That's why I'm here. I need to talk to her." Cee Cee frowned.

"What happened?" I briefly explained the conversation Jesse and my mom had. I didn't, however, tell her about Jesse's comment. That, I thought, should be kept to ourselves. At least until he actually proposes.

She pulled into my driveway. There was a wreath on the door and pine boughs draped on the porch railings. I was slightly hurt that they still were decorating and celebrating when I had been basically kicked out of the house.

"Good luck," she said. I thanked her, slid out of the car, and she drove off.

As I walked up the steps, I took deep, calming breaths. I was nervous. Very nervous. I wasn't really sure what I was going to say.

Even though I'd lived here for more than 2 years, I didn't feel welcome just walking in the door—so I knocked.

I heard voices from inside. I thought I recognized Andy's, asking someone to go answer the door. Sure enough, a moment later, David's face appeared where there used to be just a wreath.

"Suze?" he asked after a shocked moment. "What… what are you doing here?" Moved with a compassion I didn't realize I had, I reached out and hugged him. He was startled into hugging me back.

"I missed you," I mumbled, and I released him.

"Mom's been scary since you left," David whispered, looking over his shoulder. "She's so angry all the time. And she cries a lot." I frowned. "Not when she realizes anyone is looking or listening, though."

"Is she home?" I asked. He shook his head.

"My grandma is coming over this afternoon. Mom went out to the store to buy ingredients for the dinner Dad's making," he said.

Andy's voice came from the kitchen as he emerged into the hallway. "David, who's at the—Suze?" I smiled weakly.

"Hi, Andy." He stared at me, shocked, until he finally found words.

"Come in, come in." He ushered me into the dining room, and then busied himself getting me a few Christmas cookies and a mug of hot chocolate. At least he missed me.

He was telling me what was going on at home when the front door opened. "David? Brad?" I heard my mom call. "Can you get the groceries?" Then she turned to go to the kitchen and spotted me. For the third time that day, I rendered someone speechless.

For a split second, her face seemed to start to light up—but then it was forcibly darkened and she glared, and put the two bags of groceries on the ground.

"I thought I _told_ you that you aren't welcome here until you cut ties with that _boy._"

"Now, Helen," Andy started soothingly, but she cut him off with a look of fire.

"Are you finished with him?" I sighed.

"No, Mom. Listen--" I began, but she interrupted.

"Then get out. I won't have a daughter who disgraces the family like this." I laughed humorlessly.

"Disgrace the family? What are you talking about? I only stay at Jesse's apartment because _you_ are completely unreasonable and kicked me out!" I scoffed.

"David, go upstairs," Andy said quickly. He slunk up to his room disappointedly. "Now, listen, you two," he began, but my mother interrupted.

"You have no morals, no respect for your family, and no respect for yourself!"

"Helen--"

"No respect for family? What do you call what you had for me when you locked me in my room? Drove me away from the guy I love?"

"Love, love, love! That's all you two talk about, how much you _love_ each other. You don't _know_ what love is. You won't, until someone you _thought_ you loved breaks your heart. And that's what Jesse's going to do. You don't know what being hurt is like," she shouted. I blinked at her.

"So being _slammed _against a locker by your boyfriend isn't being _hurt_? So having your boyfriend _dump_ you after you sleep with him because he told you that you would do it if you loved him doesn't break your heart?" I asked scathingly.

My words cracked her façade. She sank down into a chair. "W-what?" she asked, her anger gone. I sighed.

"It's over with, Mom. Yea, Paul was an ass. He's gone. Jesse healed those wounds." My mom wouldn't let it go though. The angry-psycho mom was gone; the one I knew before that dreadful Thanksgiving weekend was back.

"Susie, what happened? What are you talking about?" I sighed.

"I slept with Paul. He broke up with me the next day. I asked him about it, and he shoved me against the lockers." I hate talking about it. I feel like whenever I mention it, people will think I'm trying to get attention or sympathy. 'Oh, Suze wants us all to feel sorry for her because she dated a jerk.' This probably isn't healthy, but whatever.

Andy reached over and awkwardly patted my arm, in an attempt to comfort me. My mom, to my surprise, put her elbows on the table and her face disappeared into her hands. "Helen?" Andy asked questioningly. Even he realized how weird it was that she wasn't screaming at me for opening my mouth.

Suddenly, I heard deep, racking sobs. Andy and I looked at each other, bewildered. "Mom?" I asked gently.

"Oh, Susie…" she gasped. She is clearly menopausal if she was just telling me she was ashamed I was her daughter, and now is crying and being all 'Susie' with me.

That, or she's just disgusted with my stupidity.

"I'm so sorry…" she cried.

"It's okay…" I said, uncertainly. "I mean, I'd like to move back in…" Except I'd miss Jesse. "As long as you let me see Jesse," I amended.

"No… no… not about that," she whimpered. Oh. So she _isn't_ sorry about kicking me out of the house. "I'm a terrible mother."

"No you're not," I said awkwardly. She really isn't—besides the psychotic behavior as of late.

"I d-didn't want you to turn out like m-m-me," she said through her tears.

Now I was really confused. My mom was a successful journalist, living in a nice house with an adoring husband who could cook fantastically. "What do you mean, Mom? Why wouldn't I want to turn out like you?"

"I w-wanted to p-protect you from guys like C-carl." Now I was _really_ lost.

"Who's Carl?" I asked. She hadn't answered, when my cell phone rang. I excused myself, slipped into the living room, and answered it. It was Jesse.

"Where are you?" he asked. "I woke up hours ago, and you haven't come back. Is everything alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine," I answered quietly. "I'm at my house." Silence on the other end of the line showed that he was obviously confused. "I'll explain it later. I'm fine, though. Don't worry about me."

"Okay, _Querida_. Call me later. I love you."

"Love you too," I said, and went back into the dining room, where my mom had gained control of herself. Andy, also, had seemingly excused himself from an obvious mother-daughter moment. I sat back down next to her. "Mom, who's Carl?" I asked again. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"He was my boyfriend when I was your age. I was crazy about him, and he seemed crazy about me too. He kept wanting me to… you know," she said, "but I was too afraid. HE kept saying that he loved me, and I thought I loved him, but I still wasn't sure. But then he told me he wanted to marry me, so I thought it was okay to finally sleep with him." I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when she said this. "So we started having sex. But then a few weeks later"-she took another deep breath-"I went over to his apartment, and found him in bed with my roommate."

"Oh, Mom," I said sympathetically.

"Obviously, I got mad, and I screamed at her to leave. But then he dragged me from his room and hit me and told me to get out of his apartment, and that I'm an idiot if I thought he actually wanted to marry me."

I felt shock pervade through my body. _So this is what Nicole meant_, I thought. "Don't give your mother a hard time… you don't know what's going on. She'll tell you everything eventually."

Why couldn't all-knowing Nicole told me this? It would have saved everyone a hell of a lot of grief.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said quietly. She sniffed, and gave me a sad smile.

"I only wanted to protect you, Susie," she said forlornly.

"Mom, you can't always protect me. I'm 18. Besides, you don't have to worry about Jesse. He isn't like Paul. Or Carl. He isn't going to hurt me. He's the one who picked up the pieces after Paul dumped me," I said. I continued gently "Jesse and I want to be together forever, and I really believe he means that, whether you like it or not. And I really, really hope you'll accept that. I want to be part of this family. But I want Jesse to be part, too."

She was silent for a long time, but then she sighed. "Okay." I immediately brightened.

"Really? Do you think he can come right over and stay for Christmas?" I asked excitedly. She looked like she was about to object, but then she sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"You two have been living together for the past few weeks haven't you?" She sighed. "I suppose, if he is able to. But I don't care what you've been up to, he's sleeping on the futon in David's room."

I grinned, and gave my mom a hug. "Thank you. I love you," I said, feeling a huge weight fall from my shoulders as I finally said those words.

"I love you too."

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Whew. It's about time. I actually started this chapter over a month ago. I hope I didn't lose any readers. Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

I apologize for the grotesquely long wait. I have been unbelievably busy. I still am busy. I should be reading for English and AP Gov't, or analyzing, or working on my thesis paper. But it's been, like, two months, and I thought you guys deserved some final concluding chapter of my story.

I doubt I'll start another story soon, but I might pop in every once in a while with a one-shot or whatever. So enjoy, and Merry Christmas (or Happy Hanukah, or whatever you celebrate). (And Happy Birthday to me, who turned 17 yesterday!)

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I grabbed the phone from the hook and hurried up the stairs to my room. I threw myself on my bed, and sighed happily.

It was so great to be back.

I dialed up Jesse quickly and he picked up after two rings. "Is everything alright, _Querida_?" he asked when he discovered it was me.

"Everything is great," I gushed. "Listen, when is your mom expecting you over tomorrow?" He sounded a bit confused.

"One. Susannah, what--"

"Come down here. To Carmel. Stay for Christmas, then head back up tomorrow morning."

"Susannah, what's going on?" he asked. I nearly giggled, I was so excited.

"Just come. It's okay. Take the bus, so you don't have to worry about driving. I'll meet you at the station."

"Okay, Susannah, but you are explaining everything as soon as I get there." He paused. "I love you, I'll see you soon."

"Love you too," I replied, and hung up.

I ran back down the stairs, to find my mom missing. Andy answered the unspoken question. "She went out for a walk. She needs to deal with some things, okay?" I nodded, and reached into the bowl of cookie dough and took a pinch and ate it. "Hey!" he reprimanded, snapping at my hands with a dishtowel. "At least help me put them on the baking sheet."

For the next twenty minutes, I helped get the chocolate chip cookies in the oven while I waited for Jesse and Andy's mom to arrive.

Vivi came first. Vivian is Andy's mother. When my mom married Andy, she instructed me to call her Vivi. Her telling me what to call her took the awkwardness out of everything.

She was a tall woman, who would have had David's red hair when she was younger, but age and gray hairs lightened and dulled it.

When she saw me, she looked at me in surprise. "I thought Helen said you wouldn't be here," she said as she kissed my cheek. I shook my head.

"I wasn't going to be, but I'm here now." She smiled.

"Good."

My mom returned a few minutes later, and greeted Vivi. She seemed to have cheered up a bit, and I knew the time to think and the cool air did her some good.

We were all enjoying some of the cookies and hot chocolate with Christmas carols playing softly in the background when a doorbell sounded through the house. I jumped up to get it, and hurried into the hall.

Jesse was there with a bag, with an apprehensive look on his face which disappeared when he saw it was me. I opened the screen door and kissed him quickly but tenderly, and I ushered him inside.

"Susannah, what's going on? Is everything okay with you and your mom?" I nodded, taking his bag from him and setting it in a corner. I took his arm and led him into the living room.

"Things are okay. I'll explain everything later." He gave me a curious look, but nodded. When we went into the living room, everyone looked up.

"Vivi, this is my boyfriend Jesse." She smiled.

"Lovely to meet you," she greeted.

"You too, ma'am," Jesse said amiably, and shook her hand.

"Please, sit down," Vivi offered, and Jesse and I sat down next to her on the couch. My mom eyed Jesse warily, and I sensed him tense up, but I took his hand and squeezed it gently, and I felt him relax.

Vivi began interrogating Jesse. Not in a painful way, just asking him where he was going to school, what he was majoring in, about his family, etc. She seemed pleased with the answers, and after a while looked over to me and winked. "Good choice, Suze." I grinned. My mother looked slightly uncomfortable.

After the Ackerman family tradition of an hors d'oeuvre Christmas Eve dinner (this is slightly odd, since I have been used to having my mom's slightly burned roasted chicken every Christmas eve before my mom married Andy. But it's pretty good, and we got to just chill in the living room while we ate), Andy put a fire in the fire place, and we had the delicious cookies I helped Andy make that afternoon.

Soon after, Vivi, Andy, and my mom moved to the dining room to chat in private about adult things, and Brad and David had went up to their rooms to do whatever they did up there. I don't know, and I don't want to.

This left Jesse and I alone together in the living room, in front of the fire that was just beginning to die. I quickly moved closer to him, and we curled up together, me leaning against him with my arms around him and his arms around me.

"So, _querida_, tell me what happened." In hushed tones, I repeated the story that my mom had told me earlier that day. He frowned as the tale progressed. When I finally finished, he spoke. "So that's what Nicole meant." I nodded.

"I guess I can't really blame her. But it still sucks that we had to go through all that." Jesse kissed my temple.

"Your mother loves you, that's why she tried to protect you. She only had good intentions." I sighed, and snuggled closer to him.

"I know." My eyes drifted shut, and Jesse's hand slowly stroked my back, easing all the built-up tension out of it. I felt myself relax in his warm embrace, and I almost thought I fell asleep until I heard someone clear their throat. I opened my eyes to see my mom.

"Susie," she began, immediately indicating she wasn't mad for our entanglement, "can you go get the sheets from the hallway closet and start making the bed for Jesse?" I uncurled myself and stood up.

"Mrs. Ackerman, it's no problem, I can do it," Jesse offered, getting up after me. She shook her head.

"I'd like to speak to you for a moment, Jesse." Jesse and I looked at each other briefly, exchanging curious and perplexed glances, before I headed up the stairs. I felt wrong eavesdropping, so I did what she had asked.

I knocked on David's door, but found Jake in there as well, setting up the futon. "I'll sleep in here," he drawled. "Jesse can have my bed." I was stunned by this generosity.

"Thanks," I said, sort of awkwardly. I carried the sheets into Jake's room and stripped the bed and re-made it with clean linens. Jesse came up just as I was fluffing his pillows, suitcase in hand.

He looked out the hallway, to make sure no one was lurking, before he pulled me into his arms and laid a kiss on me.

"What was that about?" I asked when we came up for air. Jesse sat down on the freshly made bed and I sat down next to him.

"Your mother apologized for her behavior, and pretty much gave me her blessing to be with you." I smiled.

"I'm so glad," I said, squeezing him gently. He laughed.

"Me too, _querida_." He kissed my cheek, then pulled me up. "Now get out of here," he teased, "I don't want your mom coming up and catching you on my bed."

"Again," I added, and grinned. He returned my smile. On my way out the door, I turned. "Do you think I could persuade you to come and visit me tonight?" I asked in a hushed tone. Jesse merely threw his pillow at me. I laughed. "Okay, okay. Good night."

"Merry Christmas Eve, Susannah," he replied. I shut the door slowly, allowing myself a quick peek at his chest as he began undressing for bed.

What seemed like shortly after I had climbed into bed, I felt a weight depress the side of my mattress.

"Susannah," I heard someone whisper. I opened my eyes, to see Jesse's smiling face above me.

"I knew you'd come. Did anyone see you?" I asked groggily. He laughed quietly.

"Susannah, it's morning. Merry Christmas." I blinked a few times, then registered what he had said.

"Merry Christmas," I replied. I then slipped back under my comforter and snuggled against my pillow.

"_Querida_, get up. I have to give you your present," he teased. I shook my head.

"No need, Jesse," I said in half-asleep sentimentality. "I don't want anything more than what's right in front of me."

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Four years later 

"Surprise!" I stopped short, resulting in Jesse walking into my back as I gazed open-mouthed at the crowd of friends and family before me.

"What's going on?" I asked stupidly. Jesse and I were just going over to Adam's for dinner with him and Cee Cee. What were all these other people doing here?

"We're throwing you guys an Engagement Party, genius," Cee Cee said as she ushered us into the crammed apartment.

I turned to Jesse accusingly. "Did you know about this?" I asked. He laughed.

"No, _querida_."

Feeling sufficiently like an idiot, I gave Cee Cee my coat as Adam sat us down on the couch as the guests greeted us and congratulated us.

Jesse had formally proposed a little more than two years ago, but we wanted to wait until I was out of college before we got married. It was very sweet. It was his last day before he left for college (I was starting my sophomore year in a week), and even though I was going to a school twenty minutes away, it seemed a little bit final. He took me on a drive to a random parking lot and then we walked for about twenty minutes through some trees until we found ourselves at an observation point overlooking the ocean as the sun set. I was watching, then I turned around to face him to see him with a small, black velvet box in his hand as he pulled it out of his pocket.

It's safe to say that for a moment, my heart stopped beating.

Then he very nervously asked me to marry him, to which I replied by jumping into his arms and covering his face with kisses. He slipped the silver band on my finger (it had a square blue topaz with two small diamonds on each side—it was absolutely perfect), and then picked me up and twirled me around joyously.

Then we hurried back to his aunt's house (where she and her husband were conveniently absent) and celebrated our engagement in private. All night long.

It was my senior year now, and Jesse had gone on to grad school to get his medical degree. We were getting married at the end of May, a few weeks after my graduation.

Cee Cee, Adam, Jesse's parents and Marta, Mercedes (who was graduating high school in June), Elena, and Anna Maria, his Aunt Elena and Uncle Jose, Mom, Andy, Vivi, David, and several of my friends from school were there, along with Mark and Jenna and some of Jesse's friends.

There was a table of appetizers and snacks, and Cee Cee poured both Jesse and I a glass of wine. We chatted with people, updated everyone on our wedding plans, and I showed off my ring to those who haven't seen me in a while (Rachel ended up going to school in New York and staying there for an internship the following summer, so neither of us had seen her in ages). It was a great party, and after some time of just hanging out, Adam called for everyone's attention.

"Everyone come on, gather around the happy coupe. Time for them to open their gifts." I sat back down on the couch next to Jesse (I had previously gotten up), and Cee Cee and Adam transported the presents to the coffee table in front of us.

"Really, you guys," I protested. "Thank you, everyone." Together, we opened the presents. We got many lovely gifts from our families and friends, and then Cee Cee and Adam, grinning suspiciously, brought out two separate presents for each of us.

Mine was a box wrapped in shiny silver paper, and Jesse's was a pile of what appeared to be books or DVDs or something like that.

I was still fumbling with the precise wrapping job when Jesse had unwrapped the first thing. His face immediately turned bright red, and Adam started cackling. Jesse threw a piece of balled up wrapping paper at him.

"What is it?" I asked, and tore it from Jesse's hands maturely. I saw the cover, and started laughing hysterically.

"_The Complete Idiot's Guide to Amazing Sex_," I read out loud. I saw Mrs. De Silva's mouth tighten and her eyes narrow. I lowered my voice so that only Jesse could hear. "You don't need this, you're already amazing." His face got even redder.

The rest of the titles were similar; _How to Give her Absolute Pleasure_; _Daily Sex: 365 Positions and Activities for a Year of Great Sex_; and _The Complete Illustrated Kama Sutra_. Among others.

Both of our parents were pale and a bit angry, but I thought it was hilarious. I was teasing Jesse when Cee Cee reminded me about my own unopened package.

As soon as I saw the "Fredericks of Hollywood" insignia on the box, I knew I was in as much trouble as Jesse.

"Open it, Susannah, let's see," he teased. I glared, and opened the box.

Cee Cee did not disappoint. I pulled out a pair of crotchless panties, a bustier outfit complete with garters, a short mesh robe and a very short silk slip with a plunging neckline.

Jesse stopped laughing.

"You two are dead!" I laughed, punching Cee Cee in the arm and throwing another wad of wrapping paper at Adam, who had stationed himself on the opposite side of the room, too far for us to assault him physically.

I noticed our mothers having simultaneous heart attacks, so I quickly stuffed it all back in the box.

"Thanks everyone," I said loudly, to change the subject from our sex lives. "It was great of you guys to throw us this party," I said to Cee Cee and Adam.

"Our pleasure," Adam said, bowing majestically.

The rest of the evening was a bit more calm, and a little before ten it was just Cee, Adam, Jesse, and me left in the apartment. We stayed to help clean up, but Cee Cee kicked us out and refused to let us help, so we piled our gifts in the trunk of Jesse's car and drove off to our new apartment. His mom finally relented and allowed us to move in together about a month ago. Even she accepted that the majority of relationship experts recommend couples living together before they get married. With four months until our wedding, she finally gave Jesse her blessing.

We got a small one bedroom apartment about 10 minutes from our respective schools, about half an hour from where Adam was living. Jesse held my hand as we drove in silence, and I found myself dozing off.

I woke up when I felt myself being moved. I started, and found myself in Jesse's arms as he picked me up from my seat.

I struggled to get down, still half asleep, but he held fast. "It's okay, _querida_, go back to sleep." I sighed, and it turned into a yawn, so I decided to just acquiesce, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and drifted off again.

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Four Months Later 

Jesse's hand held mine, and his other gripped my waist gently as we swayed to the music. I thought my heart was bursting.

I was finally Mrs. Susannah de Silva. This was incredibly exciting to me.

In, uh, more way than one. You see, Jesse came up with an idea about a month and a half ago, that we wouldn't sleep together until we got married. Something he thought would make it all better. Or maybe it was some attempt at chastity.

Whatever. I wasn't going to be like, "No, we are going to have sex EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, got it?" So I went along with it.

But that also means I haven't boffed in over a month. And this is with Jesse, who is practically an Adonis, sleeping next to me in the same bed.

The song ended, and I squeezed, Jesse's hand, gave him a significant glance, then excused myself from Cee Cee and my friend Kali.

Our reception was on the front lawn and terrace of an old, beautiful stone mansion overlooking the valley and the ocean. I slipped around the side of the building, up some stone steps, to a large patio that was surrounded by vine-covered lattices, dripping with the grapes Northern California was famous for. In the center was a long reflecting pool.

This place was absolutely gorgeous. Major, major props to Jesse for finding it and convincing the association who maintains it to let us rent it out for the day.

I brushed the loose dirt off a stone bench, and when I was satisfied I sat down and waited. Only a moment later, I heard shoes on the slate, and Jesse came around the corner and sat down beside me.

"What are you doing up here, _Querida_?" he asked. "Cee Cee wants you to toss the--" He cut off as my lips pressed against his.

Though surprised, he quickly began kissing me back. His hand on my lower back urged my toward him, and my fingers gripped his face gently.

I could tell from the way his fingers kept brushing past my hidden zipper that he wanted to unzip my dress—but he obviously couldn't. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is sexually deprived.

"Hey, you two lovebirds." We broke apart, and looked at Cee Cee sheepishly. "Let's go, this is _your_ party. You can't go sneaking off to mack when we're all waiting for you." Jesse and I stood up and I smoothed out my smooth white skirt, and we started heading back down the stairs.

"Wait," Cee Cee said, and she dug into the little lavender purse that matched her maid-of-honor dress. She pulled out a tissue, and grabbed Jesse's arm and pulled him over to her. "Let's not make it too obvious you two were getting it on," she said, and wiped the smeared lipstick from Jesse's lips, as his cheeks flushed furiously.

The three of us returned to the reception. We cut the cake, I tossed the bouquet, and did all the normal traditions of a wedding reception. When the sun began to set, Jesse and I said our goodbyes and set off in our limousine, to the hotel we were staying at tonight before we left for our 10-day honeymoon in Puerto Rico.

In the limo, Jesse opened a bottle of champagne and we toasted ourselves. When we arrived at the hotel, Jesse and I got a few stares as we checked in at the lobby—after all, he was in a black tux and I had on my white satin wedding dress. The hotel was largely used as a beach resort, so most people hanging out in the lobby were wearing bathing suits under their shorts and tank tops.

I found myself pressed up against the empty elevator wall as we went up to the eighth floor, with Jesse's mouth pressed against mine tightly. However, at the fifth floor, we heard the telltale ding, and quickly separated as two teenagers got on the elevator and hit the button for the roof, where there was a patio that had a small restaurant and live music. One shyly offered their congratulations, while the other simply openly gaped at Jesse.

When we reached the 8th floor, we left the two girls who immediately began giggling as the doors began to shut. Jesse pulled me down the hall by my hand, until we reached our room. He unlocked it, then promptly picked me up. I shrieked, then started laughing, as he carried me into the suite.

The room had a small sitting area, with a couch, desk, and TV; through a doorway was the bedroom, with a large bed, a beautiful cabinet with another television inside, and a sliding glass door opening onto a small balcony that ran the length of the building.

We collapsed against the bed, kissing, for quite some time. However, through the folds of my skirt, I could feel Jesse's excitement. I gently pushed him off of me. "Just let me get out of the dress," I whispered, and he nodded with a hungry gleam in his eye.

Our luggage had been brought to the hotel earlier that day, so I found our suitcases in the sitting area. I dug through mine, until I found the gift from Cee Cee and Adam. I slipped into the bathroom, carefully removed my dress (no easy task, considering my bodice was slightly corseted.) I pulled the silk slip over my head, wrapped myself in the robe, and went back into the bedroom.

Jesse was lounging against the pillows. He smiled when he saw me, openly checking me out, and I smiled back. I walked over to the bed, climbed up, straddled his waist, and rested my hands on his shoulders. His hands slid over my body, feeling my curves and the silk that was wrapped around it. I leaned forward, and kissed his lips.

His arms immediately came around my waist, and he slid down on the bed, taking me with him. I took a break from kissing him while I undid the buttons on his shirt. He kicked off his shoes.

He then rolled over on top of me, kissing my face and neck. His intensity and passion made me realize how much he cared for me, and how much he wanted me. It made me feel pretty darn good.

His lips caressed my cleavage exposed by the revealing lingerie, and his fingers hooked around the tiny panties I was wearing underneath, and pulled them off. His mouth then trailed past the clothing, and onto my legs.

I felt my legs shake with pleasure. "Jesse," I panted as he worked his way up, "what are you doing?"

He gave a slightly breathy chuckle. "Susannah, do not think that those books have been collecting dust." I was momentarily shocked.

"You read them?" I asked. He gave a wry smile.

"Anything to help me make you happier," he said, and with that his face disappeared beneath the hem, and I felt his mouth directly between my legs.

"Oh!" I gasped, and began to moan his name. I found myself both unable to breathe and panting at the same time. Every inch of my skin was like ice on fire. It was incredible.

Soon after, his lips trailed back up to mine, and I reached down and undid his pants and pushed them down, with his help. I could feel his, erm, _desire_ for me. He pulled off my slip, and pressed his lips to my chest, kissing and licking and making me go mad.

After a few moments, I pulled his face up to mine and kissed him square on the mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he got the message. Soon he was rocking back and forth on top of me, giving me incredible pleasure—and, judging by his sighs and moans, I was giving him the same.

It felt so good, so right to be back together this way after so long. The ecstasy and emotion built up inside me, until it exploded and left me short of breath and wrung out. Jesse collapsed on top of me moments later, and we both just held each other as we recovered.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

----------------------------------------------------

I dug through my purse, looking for gum—the number one must have for plane flights (aside from identification, ticket, and boarding pass, of course). Jesse and I had about fifteen minutes before we boarded our flight to San Juan, and I realized I didn't have it with me.

Jesse looked up from his newspaper as I stood up. "I'm just running to get some gum," I said, and kissed him quickly. Okay, maybe not so quickly. But I was still high off the endorphins from last night, and am looking forward to our ten, uninterrupted days together very much.

I hurried over to the little duty-free shop, and grabbed myself a bottle of water, a pack of gum, and a copy of Cosmo (I figured it wouldn't hurt to do some reading myself). As I got into line, someone bumped into me and pushed me into the man in front of me.

"Excuse me," I said, but he turned around, and I gaped. "_Paul_?" He looked at me for a second with wide eyes.

"Suze?" I instinctively took a step back from him. He gaped at me for a second. He seemed to shocked to be snide or an ass, like he usually was.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, then rephrased myself. "Where are you going?"

"Boston," he said. "I'm going to an internship at a law firm there, before I start at Harvard Law in the fall. My flight was delayed, so I'm grabbing a snack." I nodded. I should have expected he was going to be a lawyer.

I wonder if he would ever have to defend someone like himself.

"What about you?" he asked. A small bubble of pride and happiness swelled in my chest.

"I'm leaving for my honeymoon," I said, with only a trace of a gloat. "I got married yesterday."

His eyes widened. "What are you, 22? What, are you pregnant?" I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. But surprisingly, you were wrong all those years ago. Someone _can_ love me." His cheeks flushed at the implications, and he seemed embarrassed about the past that I had just thrown in his face.

"Suze, listen, I--"

"Paul!" A girl a bit younger than us, probably about 20, came up to Paul. She was petite, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and big (fake) boobs. She immediately wrapped herself around him. "I was so worried, why didn't you tell me where you were going?"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up," he explained to her. "I'm getting you some pistachios." She smiled and batted her eyes at him. Then she noticed me.

"Paul, who's this?" she asked, mildly suspicious.

"A… an old friend," he said lamely. "Suze, this is Brittany Loweston."

"We're going to Boston for the summer," she gloated. "He's going to Harvard, and I'm going to be dancing with the ballet there." I wondered briefly how she could stay upright in her turns, being so top heavy. "Are you coming to Boston too? For school? My Paulie is going to Harvard," she repeated.

I was silent for a moment, wondering how naïve this girl really was. Should I tell her? About Paul? He caught my eye, and there was a pleading gaze in them. I looked away from him, and back to Brittany.

"So I hear," I said with a falsely warm smile. "No, my flight to Puerto Rico boards in a few minutes. I'm going on my honeymoon." Her eyes widened, then flitted to my finger.

"Congratulations," she said. "Where is your husband?" I was about to open my mouth when someone behind me spoke.

"Susannah, what is _he_ doing here?" Jesse had come to check on me, and evidently recognized Paul—who, actually, was staring at him with wide eyes. So was Brittany.

"Him? You married him?" Paul exclaimed. I stuck my chin out defensively.

"Of course I married him." Brittany looked at us both confusedly.

Jesse eyed him suspiciously, but spoke gently to me. "Susannah, we're boarding soon." The line was up to Paul, but he stepped aside and let me pay before him.

"It was nice to meet you, Brittany," I said politely as Paul paid. She nodded, pressing her bosom against Paul—who was clearly brooding. Why, I don't know. He had his blonde bimbo, I had my husband. We both had what we wanted. "Have fun in Boston."

As we were walking away, Jesse put his arm around my waist protectively. I snuggled against him.

"What did he have to say?" he asked me, once we were out of earshot from them.

"He's going to Boston," I said. "He's going to Harvard in the fall." Jesse wrinkled his nose, and I laughed. "And his girlfriend is a ballerina." I paused. "I wasn't sure whether or not to tell her. About Paul."

"Did you?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I was about to, but then he just looked at me, like he was begging me not to. Maybe she's different… maybe _I_ was the different one." Jesse tightened his arm on me, giving me a sort of hug. "He just…looked so sorry."

"Maybe he is. It's been a long time, Susannah. Maybe he's changed. When we get back, look her up. Even if he isn't like he used to be, she deserves to know what sort of skeletons he has in his closet." I nodded, and rested my head on his shoulder.

"Continental Airlines, Flight 2947, to San Juan, will be boarding passengers at this time." Jesse and I looked at each other with small smiles on our faces, before grabbing our carry-ons and getting into the line that was forming.

We boarded the plane, and Jesse stashed my (heavy) bag above us with ease, then settled down next to me and took my hand.

"Are you ready, Susannah?" And I knew he wasn't just asking about the flight, or our honeymoon, but rather the rest of our lives.

I smiled. "Absolutely."

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Much thanks to all of those who reviewed throughout the course of the trilogy, and I ask that everyone who read this review now… just let me know what you thought, how I can improve, etc. Thanks so much!


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